All for naught
by Myranya
Summary: This once was the answer to the WIKTT 100-word breakup challenge, but the plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone and it developed into a longer story. HG/SS. Warning: Darkfic!
1. The raid on Hogsmeade

This all started with the '100 words break-up challenge'. When I wrote that, I said it could be a prologue to a longer story and I wouldn't write it 'cause I was already working on so many different fics. But well, as I said in the A/N's of some of those others, I can't stop my imagination from flowing. Here is the rest of the story. I guess it kinda breaks the rules of the original Challenge, though (by 20,000+ words : )). Warning, this is a dark fic! Character deaths and stuff.

Pairing: SS/HG

Rating: A strong R for rape, torture, explicit sex. Dark fic. Don't like it, don't read it, check out some of my other stories instead. : )

Category: Angst, Romance, Action/Adventure

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to JK Rowling, although I doubt she intended for them to get into this much trouble.

**1. The raid on Hogsmeade.**

Hermione had gone into town with Harry, Ron, Neville and the rest of their class. Hogsmeade weekends were rare now, and only sixth and seventh year were allowed to go. Still they had fun, laughing as they walked down the main street of the small town. They'd already visited Zonko's and were now on their way to Honeyduke's. Then she had to pick up a few items from Dervish and Banges, and she suspected Ron would return to Zonko's to pick up a few items he didn't want to purchase with her present. She was Head Girl as well as a friend, and he wouldn't make her chose between her priorities by purchasing illegal items under her nose. Afterwards, they'd meet in the Three Broomsticks. All in all, this trip would be like any of the outings they'd had in the past five years, but it was still fun to be out of Hogwarts for the day.

She spent way too much money on Chocolate Frogs and Ice Mice. She really should stop eating so many sweets. Magic could prevent and fix cavities very easily, and she always bought a few Toothflossing Stringmints too, but magic could do little to prevent her gaining weight. Of course, she only had to look at Harry's and Ron's bags to feel better, she didn't have half as much as they had. Once outside, they split up.

She bought a few fresh potion ingredients and a new magical eraser, capable of erasing any kind of ink. Her friends usually just scratched it out when they'd made a mistake, but she was a perfectionist and she liked her work to look good. 

She left the store, greeting a small group of sixth-year Ravenclaws who were just entering. Another group of students was standing across the street, and one Hufflepuff raised a hand in greeting. She was about to call out a greeting in return as she spotted the movement down the street. 

Figures in dark robes appeared with a small 'plop' and immediately started to shoot curses at the students. 

"Death Eaters!" Hermione yelled. She dropped her purchases, shot a large stream of red sparks into the air to alert everyone and ducked between two houses. The students across the street weren't as fast to react, and to Hermione's horror she saw several of the students go down. A flash of green told her at least one of them wouldn't be getting up again. Screams erupted from everywhere. She swung her wand around the corner of the building.

"Avada Kedavra!" She hadn't been sure, when they were taught earlier that year, if she would be able to use the Killing Curse against another human being. But seeing those students die, her students, she was Head Girl after all, was more than she could stand. She did not hesitate. 

A beam of green energy hit one of the robed figures, and the Death Eater went down. The others cursed, magically and non-magically, and ducked away as they fired more curses in her direction. Hermione took cover again, at least the students who were still standing had time to find cover of their own. 

Then Hermione heard more plops, and the whistle that told her the new arrivals were their Professors. They kept a close watch on the village, and her signal had not gone unnoticed. 

"Stupefy!" a voice called out from nearby, and Hermione was relieved to recognize Professor McGonagall's voice. Other familiar voices rang out, some calling stunning curses and some calling out worse. Then nothing but the screaming and crying of those caught in the attack. 

Carefully, not lowering her wand, Hermione emerged from her cover.

"They've withdrawn," Professor Lupin called out. "Don't think they expected to be hit this hard."

Madam Pomfrey Apparated next to the fallen students across the street and knelt down. Professor Lupin walked over to the fallen Death Eater. The one she had killed. 

"Good riddance," Professor Lupin said as he pulled off the man's mask. "Anyone know who he is?"

"There's another one here," another voice called from a little ways down the street, where the Death Eaters had searched for cover after her counter-attack. Professor Sinistra floated the cloaked body out into the street and deposited it next to the first.

Madam Pomfrey was calling out orders to the students surrounding her, and Hermione thought she saw at least one form being covered by a sheet, but she kept watching the Death Eaters' bodies instead. 

Professor Snape stalked up from the direction Sinistra had come, cloak billowing, wand in his hand. "That's Burt Wrungholt, joined the Dark Lord three years ago after he graduated from Durmstrang.  The other's Ferdinus Leekfield."

The other Professors flinched and Snape sneered. So that was who he'd been, Burt Wrungholt. 

"Hermione?" Professor McGonagall asked, and Hermione blinked. "Were you the one to kill him?"

Hermione nodded. 

"You did well," her Professor said, looking proud but sad. "You saved a lot of lives today."

Hermione didn't look away from the scene in front of her. Snape turned and saw her. He seemed to hesitate. 

Then, behind her, she heard voices call out. 

"Hermione, Hermione, are you okay?" Ron called out anxiously.

"Hermione, thank Merlin, you're al right," Harry exclaimed. "We should've been here, next time we won't let you go off alone. We'll suffer through your browsing Dervish and Banges if you can stand our visit to Zonko's."

She turned to her friends, not knowing what to say.

"There won't be any next time, I believe this will be the last Hogsmeade weekend," Professor McGonagall said sternly.

Harry's eyes flitted to the small crowd across the street, then to the other group. Only Lupin and Sinistra remained standing near the Death Eaters, Snape had gone. 

The group across the street parted and Madam Pomfrey emerged, a stretcher floating next to her. Not one but three shrouded shapes remained behind on the sidewalk. 

Ron gulped, but Harry noticed Hermione turned once again to the Death Eaters' bodies. 

"You killed them?" he asked. 

"One," she replied shortly.

"Wow, that's great, you got one of them bastards!" Ron congratulated her.

"Hermione, great job, I'm sorry we couldn't be here to help," Harry said.

Professor McGonagall took her by her arm. "Come on, we should go back to Hogwarts. The Headmaster will want to see you, but I'll make sure you get a cup of hot chocolate first."

"Thank you," Hermione nodded, and she allowed her Professor to lead her away, Harry and Ron following close behind.

Severus Snape walked the halls of Hogwarts. He knew he would not be able to sleep for some hours yet. He stalked through the corridors. Not that he really expected to find any students out of bed this late. After today's raid, most who'd have trouble sleeping would find comfort with their house mates. 

So he was surprised when he spotted the figure gazing out of a window on the fourth floor, overlooking the dark lake. Until he came closer and saw who it was. Of course.

"Miss Granger."

She didn't even jump. She just turned around slowly and looked at him. "I couldn't sleep."

"You're not going to be able to sleep any better standing up looking out of the window," Severus pointed out.

She shrugged.

"You may be allowed to be out here at your discretion, as Head Girl, but I still think you ought to return to your rooms," he told her.

"No."

He did not bother to reply, merely raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not going back there until they're all asleep. I can't stand one more person congratulating me. I killed someone and they're acting like that's a good thing."  Her voice was steady and she didn't even blink or look away as he loomed over her. 

"Come," Severus said, turning without looking if she actually followed. 

She caught up but didn't speak all the way down to the dungeons. He walked through the classroom, leading the way into his office. 

"Have a seat, Miss Granger," he said, pointing at the black leather chair in front of his desk. "Tea?"

She nodded. "Please."

He summoned a hot cup of tea with honey instead of sugar, guessing she preferred it that way. Or perhaps he had seen her take it like that at the table in the Great Hall? He couldn't say for sure. He sat down in his own chair and watched as she blew in the cup to cool the liquid, then carefully took a sip. 

"Aren't you going to tell me I'm being silly and I did a good thing?" she asked after a while.

"No." She must've known he wasn't going to do that, she wasn't stupid. "If I were going to said that I would've done so upstairs in the hall."

She nodded again, wordlessly, then went back to sipping her tea.

When she remained silent, he asked her, "Miss Granger, do you regret what you've done?"

She looked up, startled at his question. To her credit, she didn't blurt out an answer immediately.

"No…," she replied finally. "I had to. They had to be stopped, and if I'd used a stunning spell the others could've had him up again with a simple counter curse."

Severus nodded. "I doubt they expected such heavy resistance before we arrived. Perhaps not even then."

She frowned, staring into her cup. "Professor McGonagall used a stunning spell."

He smiled wryly. "Yes, she would. Most people stick to those, even now the Killing Curse is allowed to be used in combat. I believe your spell may have hastened their retreat."

She looked up. "So you're telling me I did a good thing, after all."

"Miss Granger, sometimes the right thing to do neither good nor easy. Sometimes doing 'a good thing' isn't among our options. I believe you did the best you could. For whatever that's worth."

She was quiet for a few moments as she seemed to consider what he'd said. "Thank you," she said quietly.

He didn't say anything else while she finished her tea. When he was sure she would not speak up on her own, he asked her, "Will you be al right, Miss Granger?"

She looked up again, then glanced at her empty cup. "I will be. I guess I better get some sleep. Thank you." She smiled briefly, then looked around as if to wonder where to put the cup. 

He studied her carefully while she spoke, and decided she was telling the truth, she would be al right. He took the cup from her, then walked her to the door.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger."

"Goodnight, Professor." 

He went back into his office. It was late, but he did not think he could sleep yet. She had been very composed, a far cry from the emotional girl she had been years ago. Certainly, he found her easier to deal with this way, but he hoped she would not always keep her feeling bottled up inside. He knew all too well what that did to a person. 


	2. Someone to talk to

**2. Someone to talk to.**

Three days later, Hermione wandered through the halls again. It wasn't that late, but she'd already finished her homework, as usual. Without really realizing where she went, she found herself down in the dungeons. She hesitated. Then she entered the classroom, crossed between the rows of desks, and knocked on the door to Professor Snape's office. The door opened. 

"Miss Granger?" Professor Snape asked from where he was seated at his desk. 

"Professor."

"Is there anything you want?" he inquired. 

Hermione shrugged. "I was just looking for someone to talk to, sir. 'bout something besides Quidditch."

She saw a hint of a smile on his face, and she thought he would agree. Then he looked at the parchments on his desk and his face once again became expressionless. 

"I have all these papers to grade, and I must prepare the centaur hoof clippings for my second year's class tomorrow. They have to soak overnight."

Hermione wasn't sure why she didn't just leave. It usually wasn't a good idea to go against anything Snape said, and she knew he hated it when she acted like a Know-It-All. But she'd come this far, she didn't really want to go back to her dormitory. Even if they wouldn't have time to talk much. 

"That'd be the cold sores potion? And the clippings have to soak in a solution of salt, greenfrog bile and powdered frostbee stingers. I can do that." 

As she had started to speak, Professor Snape had scowled, unhappy, as she had expected, with her unrequested display of knowledge. But she drove on to her offer without being interrupted and it was obvious from his reaction that it caught him by surprise. No doubt it was rare for anyone to offer help, she doubted even the Slytherins did. It didn't seem like a Slytherin thing to do.

He blinked and hesitated for a moment. Then, to her relief, he nodded. "If you would. It's a double class, as it was in your own year, there are seventeen students. Make enough for twenty, no doubt some of those idiots are going to screw up."

"Yes, sir." She smiled as she nodded in acknowledgement, then quickly and efficiently gathered the things she needed. 

It was quite pleasant to work here, in Professor Snape's office and lab. Hermione had always liked the brewing of potions, regardless of Professor Snape's attitude toward her and her friends. Now, she was no longer afraid of him. He hadn't truly scared her for some time, but since last weekend she actually felt comfortable with him. He was the only one who'd understood, who'd listened to her and asked how she felt, while all her friends told her what they thought she was supposed to feel. 

Oh, she liked her friends, it wasn't that. She'd chatted with them about a dozen things in the days since the raid on Hogsmeade: homework, Quidditch, the food, the weather. But she realised something was missing. They were really so different from her. When she really tried to talk to them about something, any school subject beyond the homework that was due the next day, they soon got bored or lost, and tuned out. Of course, that's what she did when they spent too much time talking about Quidditch. 

In about half an hour she was done. She put away the ingredients she had used, then wiped down the surface of the lab table. 

"Tea, Miss Granger?" 

She started, for he hadn't spoken since she started the work, but she recovered quickly. "Yes, please."

This time, he summoned a cup for himself as well, although she was sure he was not yet done grading the papers. 

"So how are you doing?" he asked.

"I've been fine," she replied. 

"And yet you come here, to talk to me instead of your friends."

Hermione shrugged. 

"Ah, yes, Quidditch. I seem to remember that was what we talked about most when I was in school, too," Professor Snape continued.

Hermione couldn't help a small sound of disbelief. "You talked about Quidditch all the time? What about potions?" she asked. She had heard rumors, -well, okay, the Headmaster had told her, although she'd promised never to tell- that he'd brewed as many illegal extra-curricular potions as she had.

"And who, do you suggest, I should've talked about potions _with_?"

"Oh. I see." She knew that came out sounding really stupid, but she understood quite well. 

Then his face turned dark. "Of course, we had other things to talk about in Slytherin, back then. I suppose quite a few students from my house do now, too."

She knew what he meant. Voldemort. Hermione wasn't sure what to say. She knew Professor Snape had been a Death Eater, had known that for almost three years. And that he'd spied for Dumbledore, until about two years ago when he had blown his cover to prevent a raid on Diagon Alley. 

"Are a lot of them..?" she asked.

He nodded. "More than I'd like. I can't prevent them all from joining the Dark Lord, but until recently I at least had the feeling I was getting through to some of them."

"He's been getting stronger this year, no matter what the papers say," Hermione stated. Officially, Voldemort's raids were played down, the newspapers only reporting those times when the Dark Lord had suffered a loss of some sort, but Hermione knew how to read between the lines, and she was sensitive enough to catch the mood of her Professors as well.

"Yes. The Ministry is useless. Their Aurors showed up almost an hour afterwards in Hogsmeade."

"I thought about being an Auror, once," Hermione said. 

Professor Snape looked at her with his piercing black eyes. "It'd be a waste of your talents. That kind of job is better suited for your friends who don't want to go to University. And you're hardly defenseless."

"We've had a good teacher for the past two years," Hermione remarked. Professor Lupin had returned in her sixth year. Then she frowned. "Everyone says you want the Defense against the Dark Arts position."

Snape snorted. "I used to. I like Potions well enough, but Defense against the Dark Arts is important. One of the most important subjects in the school, and for years there was this idiot Quirrell teaching it. He wasn't much better before he was possessed by the Dark Lord. Then his replacement was an even bigger idiot, I doubt anyone learned anything useful that year. I respect the Headmaster, but I don't know what he was thinking when he hired either of those two." 

Hermione had to agree, she'd wondered often enough about that herself. 

"Moody wasn't any more likeable as himself then when it was Crouch pretending, I won't even mention Umbridge, and I'm sure Potter told you why I hate Lupin," he continued, scowling. Then he shrugged. "Now the Dark Lord has returned I know I won't get the position, not with my history.  At least Lupin knows what he's doing."

"I understand," Hermione said quietly. It surprised her a little to hear Snape admit Lupin was a decent teacher, but not as much as it would have last week.

Professor Snape finished his tea and put his cup down. Hermione quickly finished her cup too. She didn't want to overstay her welcome. 

"I guess I better get going," she said. "Thank you for the tea."

"Thank you for your help, Miss Granger," he replied.

She got up and walked to the door. When she was almost there, he called after her. 

"Miss Granger?"

She stopped and turned. 

"If you truly don't mind, I usually have something or other I can use help with."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

He turned back to his grading and she left, but she was smiling. She really had enjoyed her visit and she was glad she'd had the courage to drop in on him. 

She came down to the dungeons a lot after that. She usually made some preparations for a class, prepared an antidote for a potion to be brewed and tested, and even checked some of the first-years papers. And they'd talk. The tea break grew longer as they talked politics, potions and life in general. 

She'd worried what Harry and Ron would say if they knew she was voluntarily spending time with Professor Snape, out of all people, but it didn't come up. She'd spent part of the evening wandering around, or going to the library, for most of the year. They didn't ask her where she'd been and she didn't volunteer the information. 

"Evening, Professor," she said cheerfully as she entered his office.

"Ah, Hermione," he greeted her. "Would you start on a batch of Pepper-up Potion? Madam Pomfrey tells me half the Quidditch players are fighting a cold after being foolish enough to keep practising in yesterday's storm."

"Yes, sir," she replied with a quick smile. 

She set to work, gathering the ingredients. There were a lot of items Professor Snape kept here in his office, but even more was kept in the store room in the back. She picked out what she needed from the long shelves, still feeling a little nervous or perhaps guilty every time she went in here. Not that there really was any reason to, anymore.

It'd been only the second time she'd come down here. He'd asked her to brew a potion then, too; an Alertness Potion it had been. As she had gone into the store room to retrieve the ingredients, he'd called her back. 

"Miss Granger, I don't care to take inventory every time you've been here, so if you ever need anything for your own experiments, please ask."

She'd been so shocked she almost tripped over her own feet as she turned around, too shocked to speak.

Her expression had amused him, and he'd sat there smiling at her for an eternity before he'd continued. "Of course I knew about that. Boomslang skin in second year, Powdered Graphorn horn and Yarge juice last year."

"Why didn't you do anything?" Hermione asked as she found her voice. "You didn't get me expelled, you didn't even give me detentions."

"You're the brightest student in at least a decade, I couldn't possibly get you expelled. However, if I only gave you a few detentions for stealing ingredients and brewing potions out of class, there probably would be a dozen students who'd think it'd be worth the risk. There'd be students brewing illegal strength and endurance potions for their Quidditch match, not to mention various kind of love potions, and it wouldn't be long before someone poisoned himself, blew himself up, or both."

"I came pretty close with that Polyjuice Potion," Hermione admitted. She still shuddered at the thought, she'd been covered in fur for weeks.

"Yes. I would've stopped you that time if I'd known about it, but I didn't find out until afterwards. I didn't even suspect anyone under fifth or sixth year. Yet it was exactly the kind of thing I like to prevent. Even so, it made you more careful, didn't it?"

Hermione nodded. 

"Truth is, at least after that incident, you're safer brewing an illegal potion in a make-shift lab somewhere than Longbottom is brewing his assignment in class with both of us watching him." Suddenly, Professor Snape went back to his piercing stare. "But I'd still prefer you do any future experiments down here."

"Yes, sir, you have my word," Hermione promised. "And... thank you."

"Good," Professor Snape nodded, then went back to grading. 

Hermione took a few moments more to regain control over her breathing, before she trusted herself to handle the jars with ingredients. How could Professor Snape control his emotions so easily? But in truth, she'd been immensely relieved. She'd never liked stealing the ingredients, even though it'd been necessary at the time, and she was glad he knew. She wouldn't have to carry that guilty secret any longer.

It had been that same evening that he'd called her Hermione, later when they took their tea break. She wasn't sure if he'd planned that as carefully as he did most things, or if it came spontaneously. He'd just used her name while they were talking and she'd blinked, but she'd not made a big deal out of it. Most of her Professors called her by her first name, at least outside the classroom, only Professor Snape had always used her surname. Yes, of course she called him Professor, she didn't call any of her teachers by their first names. She kinda liked his first name, though. Severus. It fit him. She smiled. 

Then she stopped her musings as she had prepared the ingredients. The Pepper-up Potion wasn't that easy, she couldn't let herself be distracted. Paying close attention to her work, she threw the first ingredients into the cauldron and stirred until she was sure it was mixed properly.

She had the cauldron simmering well in time for their tea break. Professor Snape was almost done with his stack of papers to grade, so she took the liberty of summoning the tea while he graded the last essays.

For the next half hour they talked quietly. Hermione felt very much at ease now, and it was obvious even Professor Snape was much more relaxed than he used to be. Here, at least. In the classroom he was as snappy as ever, although he no longer took it out on her. 

Since he was done with his grading, they finished the potion together. Hermione was impressed with the ease with which Professor Snape mixed the ingredients, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He was very graceful and she didn't know how she could ever not have seen it, no matter how abrasive he was in his actions towards others. 

Hermione put the last items away while Professor Snape bottled the potion. She didn't mind at all playing his assistant, her working with him came easy and natural as well.

"Hermione, would you care to help me brew the Wolfsbane Potion tomorrow?" he asked as she was ready to leave.

"Of course, sir," Hermione replied quickly. That'd be great for two reasons, she'd learn how to brew the potion, which wasn't on the regular curriculum, and she'd work directly with him again.

The next day Hermione did her homework immediately after class and finished before dinner. When she got up from the table she went to the dungeons immediately. Professor Snape had still made it down before her, he rarely stuck around in the Great Hall for longer than he had to. 

Once again, they worked together smoothly. Even with a potion Hermione did not know, she needed little direction and handed Professor Snape the ingredients he required quickly. She was quite happy, even though the complicated potion allowed no time for a tea break and little time for idle chat. It was late by the time they finished.

"It's a bit late for a tea break," Professor Snape said. "Can I invite you in for a Butterbeer or something?"

"That'd be great," Hermione agreed readily. She wasn't even really surprised at the offer, although she had never been in any of her teacher's quarters. After these past weeks it seemed not strange at all.

Professor Snape locked his office and she followed him further down the hall.

There was no painting or tapestry covering the entrance to his quarters. Severus put his hand on the stone, and gave the password. "Laboris Solis." The wards would only allow entrance when the stone recognised his hand as well as the password. The hidden door opened at his command, and he stepped aside, allowing Hermione to enter. 

He stepped inside after her, lighting the fireplace with a flick of his wand. It wasn't chilly here, he made sure of that, but he knew it was still dark and gloomy without a fire going. His eye fell on the books piled on one of the two only chairs in the room, and he quickly walked over and gathered them up. 

"I don't get a lot of visitors," he said by way of explanation. That was an understatement. In the twenty or so years he'd been at Hogwarts, only two people had been in his quarters. Albus, of course, who insisted on dropping in every once in a while no matter how disagreeable he acted, and Poppy, when she had treated him for his injuries he'd received while spying on the Dark Lord. 

He put the books down on a side table, and Hermione took the chair. 

"A Butterbeer, then, or something else?" He probably shouldn't be offering her that, she wasn't eighteen yet, but a single drink would not hurt anyone. 

"A Butterbeer will be fine, thanks," she replied. He noticed her eyes roam around the apartment, especially toward the large bookcase, which spanned an entire wall.

"You may look, but do not take anything down without asking me. Some of those books Madam Pince wouldn't allow even in the Restricted Section," he told her.

"Thanks, Professor!" she said as she got up and walked over to take a look.

"Please, call me Severus," he replied. "Only here or in my office, of course." 

She turned, surprise clear in her features. "Yes, Prof… Severus," she replied, then smiled. 

He nodded at her, then summoned the Butterbeers while she looked through the books. He handed her hers, and watched as she kept browsing, fascinated. 

He was as fascinated with her as she was with the books. She was intelligent, beautiful, and resourceful, and more like him than he'd care to admit. 

She scanned the many titles, most of them books concerning the Dark Arts. His books on Potions were in his office, except for the illegal ones, which he couldn't and wouldn't put where the students could see them. "Unicorn blood in potions?" she asked, reading one of the titles. 

"It may be illegal, but it is extremely powerful," Severus replied.

"You have a very… impressive collection," she said. "You kept them?"

"Knowledge itself is too important to discard. It is not evil in and of itself, only when it is used that way. _He_ uses it, and we should know what to defend against. I would rather not go by memory alone."

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

She was so calm and understanding it was almost eerie. Severus was used to people being uncomfortable around him, it almost made him uneasy when someone was not.

"It really doesn't bother you that I have these?" he asked. 

She turned away from the books and looked at him. "No." 

She took a sip from her Butterbeer. 

"When I first learned you'd been a Death Eater I trusted you because Professor Dumbledore did. But now I would trust you no matter what," she added. 

"It's still a part of who I am, the Mark will never go away," he said shortly. Did she know how much it meant to him that she trusted him? Few enough people did, even after all these years since he'd turned from Voldemort. 

"It may be part of who you are, but you're so much more now," she said. And suddenly she did something no woman had done voluntarily for almost twenty years. She reached out and kissed him, and not a quick peck either. 

He was stunned, shocked that she would touch him, least of all kiss him, even after all they'd shared these past weeks. He returned her kiss, savouring her touch as he held her close. 

Suddenly he realised where they were, and he pulled away. "Hermione, I'm sorry, this isn't right."

"I care for you, Severus," she said, standing her ground. "I've never felt as happy with anyone as I have these past weeks with you."

"I care for you too, Hermione," he said. "But we can't. We are still at Hogwarts, and I'm still your teacher. It wouldn't be appropriate."

Her eyes had lit up when he'd said he cared for her too. She still refused to back down, eyes shining and even taking a step towards him. "To hell with the rules."

Damn, she was strong-willed. She didn't sound like a disobedient school girl, she sounded like a determined woman. But that didn't change the fact she was three months from graduation.

"I shouldn't have invited you into my quarters," he said. "These kind of rules aren't around to be broken."

She snorted. "Rules are changed or abandoned all the time. I was taught the Killing Curse this year in this very school, that was once against one of the strongest laws in the Wizarding world. So now we can kill people but we can't make love?"

"That's because of the war."

"So? We got to know each other because of the war. And who knows what will happen in three months. There may not be another chance, all because of that same damn war."

The problem was, she was right. He'd told her almost everything he knew about the current events, and she knew as well as he did how bad it looked. The future was extremely uncertain. In normal times, he wouldn't even consider going through with this, he wouldn't risk everything for a few months. But it'd been so long since anyone had even cared about him, and dammit, he was human too, no matter what most of his students thought. 

"I doubt Albus would see it that way," he tried. Albus was his friend, but that didn't mean he'd accept blatant rule-breaking. Severus was certain the Headmaster would not be very understanding if he were to have a relationship with one of his students.

"He doesn't have to find out," Hermione said.

"He knows almost everything that goes on in the castle," Severus replied. Did she realise how hard she was making it for him? It wasn't just the arguments she came up with, it was the very fact she was strong enough to argue with him, and cared enough to do it. He was well aware she was winning.

She snorted again. "Quirrell, Crouch, Sirius, all three of the Marauders becoming Animagi," she summed up. "I've been coming to your office for weeks and no one has commented, no one needs to find out what we do or don't do."

He gave in. "We must be careful," he cautioned. 

She smiled broadly as she knew she'd won. "I will be," she promised. Then she kissed him again, making his last doubts disappear.


	3. Breaking up

**3. Breaking up.**

The next months were the best ones in his life. Hermione would come to his office almost every evening, she'd help him prepare the lessons for the next day, and then they'd retire to his quarters. He'd had a few crushes when he'd been a student himself, but he couldn't remember ever truly loving anyone before. 

At first he had looked forward to the end of the school year. She would graduate, and once she was no longer his student, they no longer had to worry about being discovered. However, lately his opinion about that had changed. The news about the Dark Lord was worse, far worse. There were attacks on Muggles and opponents of Voldemort almost every day, and it scared him. 

He'd always been able to be really calm about the war. Even when he had spied on the Dark Lord. Of course, he'd been afraid. Only a fool would not be. But he had been able to control it. Now, he realised he was vulnerable. After she graduated, Hermione would go to University, and she would no longer have the protection of Hogwarts. Bad enough all by itself, but he had come to realise that if Voldemort found out how much he cared about her, she would be in great danger. And all because of him.

For almost two weeks, he lay awake at night and fretted. Finally, he took a decision. It was the last day of finals, he would tell her tonight.

"When you're not at Hogwarts anymore we can't keep our relationship hidden. He'll find out and he'll use you to get to me."

"I've been Harry's friend for years, would it really make that much of a difference?"

"Yes it will. You don't know how much he hates me. It's better this way."

After a long moment of silence, Hermione nodded. She blinked furiously and turned, then ran off down the hall without looking back.

He went back into his office and closed the door.

Neither of them noticed the pale-haired boy, hidden in the shadows of a side corridor.


	4. Home for the summer?

**4. Home for the summer?**

Hermione got off the train at King's Cross Station, gave a last hug of goodbye to Harry and Ron, and walked out. Of course they all felt a little sad at leaving Hogwarts and going their different ways, but it had been a great effort to hide there was so much more that made her cry. At least he'd waited until after her exams to tell her, and she'd received top grades. Of course. 

Her parents were waiting outside the station in their large station car. 

"Hi mom, hi dad," she said, trying hard to sound cheerful.

Her dad came around to help lift her trunk into the car, and she looked at him quizzically. He hadn't been able to do any heavy lifting for the past three years, ever since the car accident. "Dad, I can get it. Is your back that much better?"

Strangely enough, he blinked and hesitated before he answered. "Okay, I know you can. Yes, I'm feeling much better."

"Glad to hear that," she smiled. Maybe she shouldn't have stopped him, if he was feeling better he'd probably feel put down when she insisted on handling her luggage herself. 

She took a seat in the back of the car, her father got in the driver's seat, and drove off.

"How was school, dear?" her mother asked. 

"Fine," Hermione said, trying hard not to think of all she'd left behind. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, but she was too distracted to pay it too much attention. Trying to sound casual, she added, "I'll miss my friends."

"Of course, dear."

There it was again. Something about her mom didn't sound right. Was something bothering them, too? If so, should she ask? They probably had their reasons not to tell her, and she didn't want them to pry and ask _her_ what was wrong. They had no idea she'd been involved with Severus and she was pretty sure they wouldn't approve. He was her teacher, much older, and she didn't even want to think what they'd say about his past. She smiled ruefully as she realised she had, at least, found one minor advantage of their break-up. She wouldn't have to introduce him to her parents. 

Something was wrong. She loved her mom, but her mom wasn't someone to remain quiet this long. A car horn startled her and she noticed to her astonishment her dad had just cut someone off. He'd always been a careful driver and even more so since the accident. What could have happened to distract him so? 

"Mum, what's wrong?" she asked. 

As an answer, her mom turned around. At the moment Hermione saw the wand pointed at her, she just had time to realise what had bothered her. Mum never called her 'dear'. Polyjuice Potion! She didn't get any further, nor did she have time to pull her own wand, even though she carried it in her waistband now she had graduated and could do all the magic she wanted. The Stupefy spell hit her and she passed out.

She woke up laying on the floor in a large room. The floor was hardwood and she could see the legs of ornate furniture. And the coiled-up snake in front of the fireplace. Her heart sank as she realised what that meant, but once again, she didn't have time to give it much thought. Rough hands pulled her up onto her knees and she saw Voldemort sitting in a stuffed chair. She'd never seen him this close and the pale skin and red eyes looked even more repulsive than they did from afar.

"What have you done to my parents?" she demanded, uncaring she wasn't really in a situation to ask the questions.

She was slammed forward into the ground, so hard she could not keep from hitting her face on the wooden floor. She refused to cry out.

"You will not speak to our Lord like that, Mudblood," hissed a voice she recognised as Malfoy's.

"Go easy on her, Lucius," she heard Voldemort say to her surprise and dismay. "Damaged goods are no use for trading."

"Of course, my Lord," came the smooth reply. The pressure on her arms lessened and she could once again look up. 

"What did you do to my parents?" she repeated, eyes blazing anger more than fear as she struggled against Malfoy.

Voldemort shrugged. "They were only Muggles."

Hermione gritted her teeth and blinked, trying not to give him the satisfaction to see her cry. "Bastard," she snarled. Regardless of her intentions, she could feel tears running down her cheeks.

She felt Malfoy's hands tense, but he did not try to hurt her again. 

"What do you want?" she demanded next.

"Such a forceful woman. I can understand what he sees in you, even if you are a Mudblood," Voldemort said calmly as he studied her.

Hermione shook her head as she felt dread inside her. "What do you mean, I don't know what you're talking about." 

"You know very well what I am talking about," Voldemort replied.

"If you think Harry will come looking for me, you're mistaken. And if he did, you'd better watch out, he's beaten you four times now."

Malfoy held her so tightly now she thought he was going to break the bones in her wrist, but he still didn't hit her or curse her. He wouldn't, not against the direct orders of Voldemort.

Voldemort took his time looking her over. "You're going to help me catch a traitor," he finally said.

So he did know. She felt her stomach clench. "How do you know?" she asked, barely loud enough to be heard. "We were so careful to keep our affair hidden."

As a reply, Voldemort smiled at Malfoy. 

"Until the end," she heard the smooth drawl from behind her. "It was quite a surprise for Draco, too. How ironic he broke up with you to protect you. Touching, really."

She struggled again, as helpless rage flooded her. "He won't come either. He won't." She only wished she could make herself believe it.

"I think he will," Voldemort replied calmly. Then he waved a hand at Malfoy. "Take her to the cells."

Monday morning around eleven, Mrs. Carpenter was puzzled to find the door to the dentist's office locked. An irate man who looked like he'd been waiting for some time threw her an angry glance.

"It's closed?" she asked, puzzled. 

"Don't know what happened, but they didn't even call to cancel. I've been waiting for half an hour, I'm giving up," he said, and walked off.

Mrs. Carpenter frowned. She'd been a patient of Dr. Granger for almost fifteen years, and this wasn't like her. Or her husband. They had never cancelled an appointment on her, and she didn't believe they'd just forget. She took her cell phone out of her purse and dialled the police, asking for a welfare check on the Grangers.


	5. The exchange

**5. The exchange.**

Since they were Muggles, it was Wednesday before anyone made the connection and the news made it into the Evening Prophet. 

Severus had been sitting in his office, going over some lists of all the things he had to do that summer and trying hard to keep busy. The owl flew in with the paper and he paid it, then unfolded the paper. He almost skimmed over the article as yet another attack on some Muggles, when the name jumped out at him. Granger.__

He frantically read the page, looking for any mention of her, but as he had known the moment he saw her name he knew there wouldn't be. Indeed, the only thing the article said was that the Grangers had a daughter and the Muggle police had not been able to locate her yet. He closed his eyes, resting his head in his hands for a long moment. He would have to go see the Headmaster, but he would try to collect his thoughts first. 

The large, dark owl flew into the room and startled him. He took the letter and it flew off immediately, not even pausing to take a drink from the owl dish on the top shelf. Severus looked at the envelope as if it were a howler, but unless this was a great coincidence, he would rather receive a dozen howlers than whatever this letter would bring.

With trembling fingers he opened the letter. He quickly read it, checked it with a spell, then got up and almost ran to the Headmaster's office.

As Severus came in, the Headmaster had his own copy of the Evening Prophet in front of him. He looked grim and didn't seem surprised as Severus entered. Or at least, not at first glance.  

"Severus?" the Headmaster asked, startled when he saw Severus' agitation. 

"It's my fault, Albus," Severus snarled as he paced around, too agitated to sit down.

The Headmaster blinked. "Your fault?"

"It's me he wants, Albus. I don't know how he found out, but he took her to get his hands on me."

For just a few moments, Albus looked at him. Then realisation dawned. "_You_ and _her_? Severus, she was a student! What were you thinking?"

"Yes she was a student," Severus snapped. "I know it wasn't right. But she was always more mature than her classmates, and the war made her grow up even faster. I found her roaming the halls after that raid on Hogsmeade in February, and things went from there." 

Voldemort had attacked the village on a Hogsmeade weekend. Of course, only sixth and seventh-year students were allowed on such trips anymore, none of them defenseless, and it had been a brief but bloody battle. Three students had been killed, and two Death Eaters. Hermione had killed one. So she was seventeen, and a student. No one went through a battle like that, no one killed in battle, without becoming an adult. He hadn't even slept with her that night. He'd talked to her, and listened. And discovered she was much more than just an insufferable Gryffindor Know-It-All. She had returned a few days later, having decided he was more than the greasy git the rest of her house called her, too. But he didn't feel like explaining it all to Albus. It didn't matter anyhow, none of it could change the outcome.

"I decided it would be too dangerous to continue our relationship now she would not be at Hogwarts anymore, and we broke up a little over a week ago. Somehow he found out, regardless," Severus continued. 

"Are you sure it is you he wants? He has reasons to hate her too, not in the least for that particular Hogsmeade raid," Albus asked.

As a reply, Severus tossed the letter he'd just received on the Headmaster's desk. The Headmaster read it in silence.

"You can't go, of course," Albus said when he finished reading.

"I verified it, the letter carried a strong Truth Charm. He will let her go," Severus replied.

"Severus, that isn't the point. He will kill you and you know it. Perhaps the Ministry…"

"The Ministry?" Severus interrupted. "They haven't been able to do anything lately. I've not been useful to you as a spy for almost two years, I will go."

"Don't say that. You are not useless."

"You can find someone else capable of teaching Potions. And likely someone better as Head of Slytherin, the children from Death Eater families haven't respected me much since I was exposed. I'm sorry, Albus, but I came here to say goodbye." He turned and made to leave.

"Severus, no! You will remain here, that's an order."

Severus turned back. "And what will you do, Albus? Fire me? I effectively killed her parents, allowing myself to get into a relationship with her. I won't let him kill her, too." He whirled around and left, ignoring the Headmaster's shouts behind him.

To Severus' relief, Albus didn't chase him down in the halls. Severus didn't want to curse the Headmaster, but he was determined he would not be stopped. He walked quickly out of the castle, down the path leading towards Hogsmeade, until he was outside the Apparition wards. He Disapparated.

The cells in this place, where ever it was, were bare of everything. Hermione had a hard wooden bench to lay on and a coarse blanket, that was all. There were a number of cells, only separated from each other with iron bars, and the only good part she had been able to come up with was that the others were all empty. 

She looked up as Malfoy arrived. "What do you want?" she asked. She absolutely refused to be polite. She knew that at some point, when their patience was up, she'd pay for it, but right now she didn't care. 

Malfoy smirked. "Why, Miss Granger, we're sending you home."

Her breath caught. "Oh, no," she said. She'd hoped, against better judgement, that he wouldn't come. That he would realise that he, as a Potions Master and with his extensive knowledge of the Death Eaters, was more important than she, who had just graduated. Or perhaps, that Dumbledore would stop him. He _couldn't_ have come!

"Oh, yes, he's here," Malfoy sneered. He unlocked the cell gate and dragged her out roughly.

He took her up the stairs, down a long corridor she had seen when she was led to the cells, several days ago, then into the same room where she had regained consciousness, where Voldemort held reign. To her dismay, she immediately saw Severus, held by two Death Eaters. He stood as straight as ever and looked calm, but she saw his eyes flick towards her when she was led in.  

"Severus, no, you can't do this," she choked, ignoring the Death Eaters and even Voldemort. "Why?"

"Hermione, you have your whole life in front of you. I have thrown mine away long ago," Severus told her quietly. 

How could he be so calm under these circumstances? She shook her head. "No, please no," she cried. 

"The Portkey," Voldemort ordered, and one of the Death Eaters came forward carrying a quill. She tried to pull back from it, refusing to leave him here, but it was no use, the man pushed it into her hand. She wanted to cry at Severus that she loved him, that he had to get out of there, but she felt the pull of the Portkey take her away before she could even call his name. Moments later, she crashed down at Hogwarts' gates –the wards prevented even Portkeys from working inside the walls, unless the Headmaster allowed it- and she collapsed, crying, lacking the strength to get up and go inside. If they would come after her again, now that they had him, then so be it. 

Severus watched her go. As she disappeared and the Dark Lord spoke the words to reactivate the wards, Severus felt relief, knowing that even the Dark Lord had not found a way around the Truth Charm on the letter. And an emptiness greater than ever before.

She had barely gone when Voldemort turned to him. "I've waited two years for this," the Dark Lord said. "Crucio."

Severus fell to the ground, trying to keep from screaming as pain flooded through him. It would probably take them longer to kill him but he had his pride. He heard Malfoy's voice cast the same curse on top of the Dark Lord's, and as the second wave of pain hit him he did scream. His body contorted as he could no longer fight the spell.

After an eternity, the curses were lifted. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pain started to ebb away. Severus gritted his teeth, bracing for what would come next, he didn't believe for one second they would kill him this quickly. 

Malfoy and Avery lifted him up off the floor, dragged him over and made him kneel in front of Voldemort. 

"Now for the surprise," the Dark Lord said.

Severus felt a stab of worry. The dark wizard couldn't have recaptured her, the Truth Charm… No, he would not show his concern.

"I didn't tell you before for I'm afraid if you knew you would not have come, even to save Miss Granger," the Dark Lord continued, conversationally. "I am not going to kill you."

Now Severus started, but still he refused to speak.

"You've made it clear I can not trust you, but I need your co-operation. Ever since that do-gooder of a Dumbledore destroyed the Philosopher's Stone, I have searched for someone who could recreate it, but in vain. Flamel killed himself and destroyed his notes, the others who have worked on it never got anywhere. I'm afraid you are the only one capable of such a feat, and I believe Walden Macnair will be able to persuade you to do as I ask. In time."

"Never," Severus hissed loudly, but he wished he was only half as confident as he sounded. Walden could be very _persuasive _indeed. No, he would hold out, Walden was also quite impatient. He would make the man lose his patience and kill him rather than work for Voldemort again. He would.

Eventually, Hermione cried herself out. She pushed herself up and stumbled inside, making her way up to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle stepped aside as she gave it the password, Ice Mice, and moments later she stumbled into Dumbledore's office.

"Hermione," Dumbledore said as she came in. The old wizard got up and approached her and held her as she started to cry again. 

"You know," she breathed as she realised what his reaction meant, and pushed away from him. "Why didn't you stop him? There must be something you can do!"

"I couldn't stop him. He is an adult and his own man, and I don't think I could have stopped him even if I had used force. I informed the Ministry, but you know how effective their Aurors have been, of late," Dumbledore replied sadly. "I am sorry."

Hermione bit her lip, then nodded wordlessly.

"You can stay here for now," Dumbledore offered. "I will take you to see Madame Pomfrey, and I'll have the house-elves prepare a room for you."

"Thank you," she nodded quietly.


	6. Breaking

**Warning: **see first chapter –this isn't a pretty story.  It turns very dark from here on, and we all know Voldemort isn't going to be nice to Severus and Hermione. But in case you'd forgotten, this story is rated R and contains torture and rape. If you're underage or that isn't your cup of tea, please don't flame or complain. There are over 72,000 Harry Potter stories on this site –just go and read something else. Now, for anyone still with us, on with the story! : )

**6. Breaking.**

Hermione ended up staying at Hogwarts. Even though Voldemort had what he wanted, Dumbledore considered it too dangerous for her to attend University. The Wizard University in Leeds was under strict control of the Ministry, which meant there was little barring Voldemort from accessing it, and the students, any time he wished. She studied advanced Transfiguration, Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts, and when school started in September, she taught several of the lower classes in Transfiguration and DADA. She had planned to study Potions at the University, but Severus' replacement, a witch by the name of Reena Lennarts, was not much more knowledgeable than she was, although the woman was competent in the classrooms up to seventh year. Besides, doing Potions now would be too painful. She stuck to the other subjects. Professor Christy Sinistra took over as Head of Slytherin.

She tried hard to keep busy, working even harder than she did before her O.W.Ls or N.E.W.Ts, and she tried to move on, but she couldn't. She knew it would've been hard to forget Severus, even if none of this had happened, if she'd gone to University and she had known he was teaching here at Hogwarts. But now, it was impossible. She didn't eat well, she slept very badly, and she avoided the other staff members who showed their concern. 

Sure, the Hogwarts staff were her friends. She had always liked most of her teachers, and she did get along with Minerva, Filius, Remus and the rest. But she felt terribly lonely, knowing her parents and Severus were dead. Even Crookshanks was gone. The Ministry had located her parents' car, completely burned out, more than two weeks after the start of the summer, and there had been no trace of the cat. He'd likely been inside but the magical fire had been so hot there was no way to be sure.

In the meantime, Lucius Malfoy was getting worried. For the sixth week in a row, ever since he'd taken over from Walden, who'd almost killed Severus in a fit of rage, he had to report to Voldemort that the damned traitor wasn't any closer to giving in than he had been back in July. So far, the Dark Lord had been patient, but Lucius did not want to find out how long, exactly, that would last. Not to mention the chance of failure, that was most definitely not something the Dark Lord took kindly. Lucius was afraid the traitor would, no matter how careful they were in the use of Cruciatus and other forms of torture, lose his mind before he submitted.

Voldemort heard Lucius' report in silence. "Do you have any suggestions?" he asked finally.

Another thing Lucius had worried about. Saying, or even remotely implying, the Dark Lord had been wrong about something was never a good idea. Of course, sending the Mudblood witch away had been the only way to get their hands on Snape, but…

"We could try using her again," Lucius said carefully. "Seeing he cared enough about her to come here, he might give in once we get our hands on her."

Voldemort looked thoughtful and Lucius flinched inwardly. 

"It was necessary to let her go. I can not cheat a Truth Charm, and without that assurance he would not have come at all. I must admit I had not expected him to be this stubborn. Fortunately, I did not promise I would never cause harm to her –how could I? with the war it was almost a given I would face her again, sooner or later. All I promised was that I would let her go and not go after her immediately. Those requirements have, by now, been met."

Lucius relaxed a little when he realised the Dark Lord did not take the suggestion as criticism. "So we take her."

"It is unfortunate she is at Hogwarts, the one place it is difficult to get at anyone," Voldemort frowned. "But yes, find a way and take her."

"Yes, Lord," Lucius said and bowed as he left the room. He had a plan that might work, difficult but not impossible. Several of the seventh-year Slytherins were loyal and eager to serve.

Hermione rarely left the castle. She read, studied, taught and read some more. She never took a walk, and she certainly didn't go to Hogsmeade. Only on the days of the Quidditch matches she went outside, more because the rest of the staff insisted than because she wanted to see the game. Today was the second match, between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and she'd almost refused to go no matter what anyone said. She had too many memories watching these two particular houses playing Quidditch. But Ginny was a Chaser on the Gryffindor team, ever since her older brothers and Angelina had left, and Hermione finally gave in and came to see her play.

The game was off to a good start as Ginny immediately took possession of the Quaffle, although the Slytherin Keeper managed to stop her from scoring. The Slytherin Chasers took over, but were quickly stopped by the Bludgers sent their way by the excellent Gryffindor Beaters. Ginny grabbed the Quaffle again and this time she managed to score the first goal of the match.

Cheering for her friend, Hermione felt herself getting caught up in the game and the crowd. Dennis Creevey was commenting, quickly calling out the names of the players, but he was less biased than Lee Jordan had been and called out fouls on both teams. 

Gryffindor scored again, but then the Slytherins got two goals in a row, and the students got wild. Of course, the Seekers would likely decide the game in the end. Hermione felt a stab of pain as she remembered how Harry had usually caught the Snitch, in much happier times. Like the game in her first year, when Severus had refereed, long before she fell in love with him. She sighed and tried, in vain, to turn her attention back to the match being played in front of her.

Suddenly, amidst all the racket of the game, an owl appeared. Startled, Hermione noticed it heading straight for her. Who would write her and have a letter delivered at this time of the day? She would be careful and check anything it had for her, as she did each time she received a message. Even with that plan, when the owl didn't land but instead dropped a small package, her reflexes took over and she caught it in her hand. The moment it touched her skin, she knew her mistake. She could hear the startled cries from Remus and Minerva, who sat next to her, as the Portkey carried her away.

She landed on the floor in a room she'd only seen twice before, but which was way too familiar to her. She didn't have time to go for her wand before it was summoned by the Death Eaters, who had the advantage in that they had obviously expected her. Voldemort stood among them, still as pale as ever, red eyes gleaming as if a fire roared inside his skull.

"What do you want this time?" she asked angrily as she pushed herself up. 

As an answer, one of the Death Eaters gave her a hard kick in the side. She gasped. 

"This time, you will be more respectful," someone hissed. Malfoy again. Damn.

"Or what, you're going to kill me?" she spat. "Since you already killed everyone I loved, I don't care!"

Voldemort smiled at her, and she even heard a laugh from Malfoy behind her. The bastards.

"This time, there is no need to keep you from being injured," Voldemort said calmly. "Crucio."

She fell to the ground, screaming. She couldn't believe the pain, it was as if all her bones were made of liquid, burning lead. She was thrashing on the ground, hitting her arms and legs against the furniture, but the pain from that did not even register through the agony from the Cruciatus curse. Finally, Voldemort stopped the curse and a painful throb was all that remained. She lay on the floor, breathing heavily. 

"Take her to the cells," Voldemort ordered, and Malfoy reached out to pull her up.

Hermione gasped, everything hurt and she stumbled as she was pulled to her feet, but she still was angry. Struggling, she cursed, earning her a hard slap in the face. She shut up, for now.

Malfoy dragged rather than led her to the cells. Avery followed, but at least Voldemort remained here. Not that she thought Malfoy and Avery would treat her any better.

Unlike last time, the cells smelled bad. A strong odour hit her as she was pulled down the stone steps. She noticed a figure laying on one of the wooden benches. Then the figure looked up and she felt like her heart would stop. 

"Severus!" she gasped, when she found her breath. "Oh my God, you're alive."

"Hermione, no," Severus said, his voice cracking. 

Hermione felt tears come to her eyes as she saw him. He was naked, and his reed-thin body was covered in fresh wounds and older scars. His hair was matted, wisps plastered to his face, he was unshaven and his eyes were… desperate. She couldn't hide her dismay as she cried out. 

"Severus, what did they do to you? They kept you here, all this time?" Merlin, how long had it been, this was unimaginable. She didn't even consciously notice Malfoy unlocked the cell next to his.

Severus' expression was one of utter horror. "Hermione," he said again, softly, then, with obvious effort, pulled himself up from the bench and turned to Malfoy. "You bastard."

Malfoy laughed out loud now. "Such language," he drawled. 

"What did they do to you, why?" Hermione repeated, no longer paying attention to Malfoy. She couldn't believe Severus was still alive. She struggled, trying to reach for him through the bars, and Malfoy let her go. Forgetting her own pain, she clung to the bars and reached out through them. 

He took her hand, and with his other hand reached for her face, gently wiping the tears and tracing the place where Malfoy had hit her. His expression softened. She cried as she was almost afraid to touch him, he had so many sores and bruises everywhere. 

"Well, answer her, traitor, or should I explain?" Malfoy sneered from behind her.

Severus snarled at him angrily, then looked at Hermione again, the anger replaced immediately by the same horror and desperation she had seen when she had come in. He closed his eyes for a moment before he started.

"He wants me to work for him again. He needs someone to make a new Philosopher's Stone. I have refused, and Malfoy here has been trying to convince me." His voice was flat. 

Hermione looked at him in shock. Realisation dawned and she realised why she was brought here. She whirled around, enough adrenaline raging through her to ignore the pounding headache the quick movement, so soon after the Cruciatus curse, brought. She turned on Malfoy.

"Bastard! Utter, utter bastard! Well it's _not_ going to work, you'll have to kill me first!"

Malfoy smiled, then pulled his wand out. "Crucio."

Through her own screams of pain, she could hear Severus call her name, then the Petrificus Totalus spell Avery cast on him.

Malfoy held the curse on her longer than Voldemort had, or perhaps it only seemed that way. When he finally released it, she was twitching and shaking and she felt like her head was going to explode. She felt like she wanted to die, right here and then. Severus had withstood more than three months of this? Gritting her teeth, she spat at Malfoy's feet.

Malfoy pulled her up by the hair, then slammed her down on the floor, hard. She groaned as he kicked her, rolling away to lessen the impact, but the cell was small and she could not avoid his kicks for long. She gagged as he kicked her in the stomach several times in a row, throwing up when he gave her a moment of rest. Then, with a flick of his wand, Malfoy ripped off her clothes. She hissed in disgust, then dismay as she realised Severus would be forced to watch. She steeled herself, determined to stay strong. 

Pulling her up again, Malfoy threw her on the wooden bench, then opened his pants and took out his throbbing penis.

"Bastard, dirty bastard," she growled, earning herself another hard slap in the face, but she refused to stop cursing as he pushed himself up against her, then entered her roughly. 

It hurt, but nothing, nothing compared to Cruciatus. She was too angry to feel humiliated, Malfoy was the filthy bastard and she would not plead, not cry. He hit her again, now with his fists, as she kept yelling obscenities at him, but she still did not stop. If he hit her hard enough that she passed out, it would be a temporary relief.

But Malfoy made sure that didn't happen. She tried to scratch him as he thrust into her faster and faster, but he pinned her arms down easily. At least this meant he didn't have his hands free to punch her, and she called him a bastard again and again. Finally she could feel him tense as he came, then pulled out of her. He wiped his penis on her discarded clothes and Avery took his place. 

She started to curse him too, and he cast a silencing spell on her. She glared at him instead as he took her, at least it didn't hurt as much now that she was moist from Malfoy's cum. The man didn't take long to come, groaning and breathing hard.

If she had hoped they were done with her, she soon learned she was mistaken. Just as Avery was done, two more Death Eaters came down the stairs. She spat as she recognised them, Macnair and… Draco. Figures, since he was the one who overheard them. No doubt this was his _reward._

Avery released the silencing spell, and Macnair came forward. A minor flash of satisfaction flitted through her as she realised that Draco didn't exactly get first picks, even if he had been the one to find out about them. Even so, she was a little afraid of the big man who approached her now. She had heard enough about him to know he made Malfoy and Avery look like angels when it came to cruelty. Well, if he'd kill her then Draco would miss out on his turn with her. That thought almost made her smile even now.

Macnair noticed as he straddled her. "Enjoying yourself, bitch?" he inquired. 

"More than you know, filthy motherfucker," she hissed.

Macnair sneered. "Such language from a pretty girl like you. Although you're not quite so pretty now." He fingered one of the bruises Malfoy had left, then pinched her, making her wince. Then he entered her, easily slipping into her.

"Asshole," she spat.

He took out his wand and she braced herself, expecting more than just a silencing spell from him, but nothing could have prepared her for what he did.

"Crucio."

Again, agony overtook her and she bucked and twisted under the large man. Macnair easily kept her pinned down as she screamed and cried. Through her tears, she saw his grin as he rode her. 

When he came and released the Cruciatus curse, she was exhausted. She was breathing hard, covered in sweat, and hurting like hell. She could feel her muscles spasm, and couldn't do a thing to stop it. That had been the third Cruciatus, and he hadn't killed her. Draco took his place.

"Just as big a bastard as your father," she said softly. She barely had the strength to speak but she was not going to let Draco, of all people, go without at least one insult.

"I've been wanting to do this since I first saw you, Mudblood whore," Draco said. He, too, entered her and cast Cruciatus.

She almost passed out. She could hear her voice go hoarse and when he finally released her, she laid there, unable to move. She closed her eyes and hoped to pass out completely.

Through the haze, she heard Malfoy's voice again. "Finite Incantatem."

She opened her eyes and turned her head. Malfoy had dispelled the Petrificus Totalus Avery had cast, and Severus was looking at the pale-haired Death Eater.

"You win," he said, his voice void of all emotion.

Dismay flooded through Hermione. "No," she croaked, but almost no sound came out. 

Severus looked at her, then back at Malfoy. "Take me to Voldemort."

Hermione tried to shake her head. She summoned all her strength and pushed herself up, falling to her knees on the floor. "No, Severus, don't, please don't."

"Hermione, I can't take this, I'm sorry."

She watched helplessly as Malfoy and Avery took him out of the cell and up the stairs. Draco and Macnair sneered at her, then she was left alone.

Severus let Malfoy and Avery drag him up the stairs, knowing full well he was too weak to make it unassisted. He no longer felt angry, or even sad, he just felt numb. 

He dropped to his knees in front of Voldemort, bowing deep. "Leave her alone and I will do as you request, my Lord," he said quietly.

"With your history, you will excuse me if I verify you are speaking the truth," the Dark Lord said, and handed him a small vial. 

Veritaserum. Not fail-safe, because circumstances changed and truths like these weren't absolute –just the previous day he could just as easily have sworn under Veritaserum he would die rather than give in. But it was a sensible precaution. He took a dose without protest. 

"Leave Hermione alone and I will serve you, and attempt to recreate the Philosopher's Stone," he repeated. 

Avery snorted. "Attempt?"

"It is a difficult enough project I can not promise to succeed, not under Veritaserum," he replied. 

Avery snorted again, but the Dark Lord nodded. Thank Merlin the Dark Lord knew quite a bit about Potions and Alchemy. Voldemort was demanding and unforgiving on those who failed, but did not expect the impossible. If Avery were in charge, the man would probably demand results in a few months or even weeks, which was ridiculous for a project like this. 

"Acceptable. Now you will understand that after you betrayed me once, I can not really trust you, Veritaserum or not. You won't have your wand, if you need any magic done you can ask someone. You will not leave the manor and you have access only to your laboratory, the library, and the common areas. As for Miss Granger, you understand I can not let her go free. If you can convince her to submit to these same restrictions, and make sure she doesn't try to escape or sabotage anything, I will allow her to join you. If not, she will have to remain locked in the cells."

"I understand, my Lord" Severus replied. It would be difficult to convince her, she could be almost as stubborn as he was. But he would.

"Good. Malfoy will see you healed enough to function, you can see about Miss Granger tomorrow. Dismissed."

"Thank you, my Lord," Severus answered. 

Malfoy and Avery helped him up again –still rather rougher than necessary- then led him to a set of rooms on the second floor. Malfoy produced a series of vials, healing potions and salves. That seemed to be the extend of his assistance, as the two men left the room. 

Severus slowly helped himself to the various potions, then found the bathroom and cleaned himself up just a little before collapsing onto the bed. He wished he could do something for Hermione tonight, but knew it would be futile to ask. After the fight she'd put up, Malfoy would not allow her any relief this quickly. Of course they'd been much harder on her for her resistance, but he was proud of her. He would do what he could for her in the morning. 


	7. Settling in

**7. Settling in.**

He woke later than he had wanted to, due to the potions and his exhaustion stemming from months of systematical torture. Rising, he made his way to the bathroom, took a shower, then discovered the robes he had worn when he came here hanging in the closet. He got dressed, then opened the door, wondering if he would be free to go down to see Hermione. 

Not surprisingly, he was met almost immediately by Vincent Crabbe. They likely had his door warded to alert them when he left his rooms. 

"Where are you going?" the boy demanded.

"I want to see Hermione," he replied.

"Wait here."

Severus nodded and waited, and after a few moments Malfoy walked up. 

"Want to see your girl?" Malfoy sneered.

"Yes." The time for fighting was over, and he didn't let himself be goaded.

Malfoy shrugged. "Come." 

He followed Malfoy down to the cells. Even though he knew what he would find, he was shocked when he saw Hermione. The bruises had colored dark and her left eye was swollen shut, and it was obvious she hadn't slept much, even as exhausted as she had been. She had pulled her clothes back on, but every part of her body that showed was bruised or scratched. She got up when she saw him, supporting herself on the bars. Malfoy didn't unlock the cell, so Severus reached out and held her through the bars. 

"Hermione," he said quietly.

"Severus," she replied. "I'm sorry."

He gently stroked a tendril of hair out of her face. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

Hermione bit her lip. "You're here because of me, and now you've agreed to help him because of me. It's all my fault, I should've been stronger."

"Hermione, you're the strongest woman I know. I'm the one who couldn't stand it any longer. And I'm the one who should've known better. I knew our relationship would make us both vulnerable. I'm sorry for everything you had to endure." He half and half expected her to protest again, but arguing over who was at fault didn't really help their current situation. He continued. "I'll be working on the Philosopher's Stone, I have rooms upstairs, and a potions lab. I can't leave and the Dark Lord does not trust me with a wand, but it is rather more comfortable than down here. You can join me if you promise to hold to those restrictions, not to try to escape and not to do anything to endanger the project."

"Do I have any choice?" Hermione inquired bitterly.

"He will keep you locked up here if you do not agree. He won't hurt you, but you will have to remain in the cells."

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, who was listening to everything they said. "And I take it there isn't much chance of getting out of here."

Severus shook his head. "No. The place is full of Death Eaters, there are wards all over, and Dementors outside." He flinched involuntary at the thought, Malfoy had sometimes let them in to feed on his thoughts.

Hermione sighed and was silent for a few long moments. Then she looked up. "Al right. I promise. I will not escape, and I will not do anything to stop you or anyone else."

Severus let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He hadn't been at all sure she would agree.

Malfoy unlocked the cell with Alohamora, and Severus helped Hermione up the stairs.

Severus was almost carrying her when they reached his rooms. Their rooms, now. He helped her sit down on the couch. 

"Have you had anything for breakfast?" he asked.

She shook her head.

He nodded, then summoned breakfast from the kitchens. At least there was Floo powder for inter-house communications, although of course their fireplace was not connected to the outside Floo network. 

He hadn't eaten yet either, and he was hungry –and tired, the few potions Malfoy had given him the previous evening had only healed the worst of his injuries and carrying Hermione up the stairs had already worn him out- but he checked the potions lab first. 

As he had expected, it was large, well-stocked and in excellent shape. Cauldrons, glasswork, burners and any other equipment he could wish for were stored in racks, ingredients, neatly labeled, were on the opposite side of the room, and book shelves lined the far wall. A long lab table and a large desk stood in the middle, and a fire was burning in the fireplace. Well-ordered as it was, it didn't take him long to find that there were no finished potions at all. 

He considered starting on the healing potions right away, but he knew he would have to eat something himself, first. It wouldn't do either of them any good if he collapsed before he finished brewing. Apologizing to Hermione, he sat down and ate breakfast with her. 

As soon as he had eaten, he set to work, and before too long he had some basic healing potions, pain relievers, and a morning-after potion. He didn't know whether Voldemort would approve of him making these but he didn't ask; he knew he wasn't going to be able to concentrate on any research as long as she was still hurt, not to mention all that was left of his own injuries. The Philosopher's Stone wasn't a project of days or weeks, he'd take these few hours for themselves.

Hermione was sleeping when he came out of the lab with the potions, and he woke her up. She started, but quickly smiled when she saw it was him. 

In the afternoon he began with going through the books, and discovered the notes his predecessors had made while working on the project. Taking a few of them into the living room he spent the rest of the day reading, while Hermione fell asleep again on the couch, clothed and all.

Which reminded him they only had the clothes they were wearing, and he called the house-elves. Soon there appeared several changes of clothes and night wear. He put everything away, then continued his perusal of the notes. 

Meals were delivered by the house-elves at lunch and dinner time too, which suited Severus just fine. He didn't care to go out among the other Death Eaters, not for himself and certainly not with Hermione. Yes, their quarters were a prison, but it was better than the last. 

After dinner, Hermione felt better and told him what had happened at Hogwarts while he was gone. He didn't care much for Neela Lennarts, she wasn't even a Potions Mistress, but then there weren't that many who were and still were willing to teach at school. He wouldn't have, if he'd had a choice. At least Sinistra would do well with his Slytherins.

It was still early when they retired. All day, Severus had been unsure how Hermione would react. They'd been lovers, but they'd hardly lived together, and under any other circumstances he wouldn't have suggested it so soon. Mature or not, she was still young and he had preferred not to push her. Now, circumstances had done it for him.

He gave her her privacy while they got ready for bed, worried she might be uncomfortable being seen naked after all the Death Eaters had done to her the previous night. Instead, she came out of the bathroom without even a towel wrapped around her. 

"Severus?" she said softly. "Please take me. If you still want me after last night."

He quickly got up, gathering her in his arms. "Hermione, of course I still want you, don't even say that. Don't ever say that."

"Then take me. Now." She kissed him and pulled herself close to him. "I missed you so much."

He stroked her back as he replied. "I missed you too. Are you sure you are up to it?"

"Yes, yes. Severus, I want to know how good it can feel again. I need to."

As a reply, he took off the bathrobe he had been wearing and let her lead him to the bed. 

He tried to go slow, knowing that she would still be sore in more than one place –no potion could take away the pain from Cruciatus completely- but she was hungry and fierce, urging him on. He relented and took her, still gentle but without further hesitation.

She came quickly, breathing his name in between hungry kisses. He came as well, then lay next to her, holding her close. She looked exhausted but very satisfied. 

"Thank you," she breathed.

"Hermione, I love you, I will do anything for you," he replied.

She smiled sadly before replying. "I know. I love you, Severus."

He pulled her close and soon they were both asleep.

The next morning after breakfast Severus returned to his research. He was extremely relieved Hermione was looking better. Of course, she didn't have much to do now. She walked around their quarters, ordering a few things from the house-elves he hadn't thought of, then took a look around the potions lab. Finally she emerged with one of the books from the shelves and started to read. Of course, as long as she had something to read she wouldn't be completely bored.

It took days just to check through the notes. Finally, he started to set up some minor experiments, mixing two or three ingredients to see the reactions described in the notes. He soon found Hermione looking on with interest, some of the notes in her hand. Soon, she handed him the ingredients he was adding.

"You don't have to help," he said. He knew how much it disgusted her what he had to do.

"You are going to do it no matter what," she stated.

He nodded.

"Then I may as well help. Even I can't read all day every day, with nothing to work on."

He glanced at her. Her eyes were sad but calm. He nodded.


	8. From within

**8. From within.**

It was months later. Outside, it was early summer. Not that Hermione ever went outside. They weren't allowed to leave the manor and a stroll on the grounds was hardly appealing, what with the Dementors and all. But the sun coming in through their living room window reminded her of how unexpectedly fast the time had gone by. 

They heard little from the outside world. The Death Eaters went on raids, often returning with one or more captives, to disappear into the dungeons or the large ballroom downstairs. Hermione didn't know the details of what went on there, and she didn't want to know. No one ever came out, they had been an exception. She knew Macnair, Marcus Flint, the Crabbes and the Goyles were the worst when it came to these revels, and she took care to avoid them. Not that they visited the potions lab or in the library often, which were the only places she frequented. 

A few of the most notable events did come to their attention. Voldemort led a surprise attack on a meeting of Aurors, killing twenty-three and only losing two of the Death Eaters. And in January, the Dark Lord attacked Hogsmeade, this time while there were no students in town. Striking in the middle of the night, almost three dozen people had been killed, and more than three quarters of the village had been burned to the ground. Voldemort had lost no one in that attack. If there were any victories for the other side, they didn't hear of them.

She was always busy. Most of the time, she assisted Severus with his work on the Philosopher's Stone, and in the evenings she studied. Soon after she had started to help him, Severus had suggested he would continue to teach her and let her do an official apprenticeship under him. Apart from learning more than just those things that happened to come up during their research, she would be able to earn her title as Potions Mistress, which would be invaluable if the war would ever be over. Regardless of which side would win. She applied herself to her studies as hard as ever, and with few distractions, she was making quick progress.

At the time, she had been quite surprised that Voldemort hadn't objected, neither to her assisting Severus, nor to her studies. Severus had explained his work would not suffer, and hers would only improve –Potions was a science in which an understanding of the whole was often as important as an understanding of the specific potion one was working on- and the Dark Lord had agreed immediately. 

That had baffled her at the time. Now, she knew Voldemort knew a lot about Potions and Alchemy, not near as much as Severus, but certainly more than any other among the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord would come once or twice a week, watching them with his red, glowing eyes. At first it made her terribly nervous, but now she was used to it. Not that she would ever forget who he was, or forget to respect him, but his presence didn't make her shake as badly anymore. Of course, he came to check up on them, to see if Severus was working seriously on the Stone, but he also showed patience and a great deal of respect for Severus' abilities. 

Once, just before Christmas, Voldemort had even told Goyle Sr off. The man, who was about as thick as his son, had come into the room with a message for the Dark Lord. 

"Still no results, eh? Figures," Goyle had sneered when he found the Dark Lord in the lab.

Voldemort had given him a withering look and replied, "If it were that easy, I wouldn't have had to go through all that trouble to get Severus. And people who can't brew a Swelling Solution should not comment on the subject at all."

Goyle had flinched, nervously wringing his hands, almost as Pettigrew often did. "Of course, my Lord, I'm sorry my Lord."

Severus had smirked and even she had found it amusing to see one of the Death Eaters put in his place, although she hadn't dared to show it.

Not all, but at least some of the Death Eaters slowly started to treat them with civility. First only towards Severus, but more and more toward her as well. Surprisingly enough, the Malfoys were among the more courteous ones. Where Draco and his father used to sneer every time they saw either her or Severus, Malfoy Sr. had even greeted her the last few times he had seen her. Hermione would always hate the Malfoys for what they had done, but she was also relieved. While Pettigrew, Crabbe, Goyle and of course Macnair were still as disdainful as ever, she felt the Malfoys were far more dangerous in the end.

Of course, regardless of all of these happenings, they still didn't have their wands. The Dark Lord didn't really trust them, perhaps he never would. But it was better than it had been.

And now she was coming back from the library, carrying several obscure Muggle religious texts, hoping they held something of value, when she met Voldemort in the upstairs hall.

She respectfully inclined her head and intended to move on quickly, but he stopped her.

"Miss Granger."

"Lord."

"Working hard," the Dark Lord stated, indicating the books she carried. 

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Lord."

"Good." His red eyes pierced hers, and she felt a little chilly even though she should be used to him now. Then he reached out and rested a pale, long-fingered hand on her arm. "It has come to my attention you are the only one here who hasn't been Marked."

Hermione started. "But, but I'm a Mudblood," she said. "My Lord."

Voldemort smiled at her distress. "And?"

Her eyes opened wide in confusion. "Well, I thought, I thought I could be here only because of Severus. I have never heard of any Muggle-born taking the Mark."

"None have," Voldemort replied. "But I've seen what you can do, and I don't care who you were born to. Think about it." He let go of her arm and swept down the hall. 

"Yes, Lord," she promised as he walked off, then quickly continued on her way.

As soon as she entered the potions lab, she put the books down and told Severus what had just happened. He didn't seem as surprised as she was.

"The Dark Lord has never been as anti-Muggle as most people think."

"Then what about all the raids, all the Muggles and Muggle-borns he lets Macnair and Crabbe and Goyle bring in for their pleasure," Hermione argued.

"He uses them, yes. He doesn't particularly care about them, and he uses them, killing them or allowing others to kill them when it suits him. But he is a half-blood himself, and apart from his Muggle father, he hates them mostly because it is convenient to do so. It gave him the support of a number of old, strong, pure-blood families, and even now it is important in keeping some of his followers under control."

"Like Macnair." Hermione said.

Severus nodded. "Yes. You must have noticed few of his followers actually have any real power. Malfoy, of course, the Lestranges in London, Winters in the Ministry, but that's it. The others may be free to move around but they have little more actual power than we do. He lets them have their way with the Muggles they capture, it gives them a sense of power, and it keeps them happy, but that's all."

Hermione nodded in agreement. 

"I'm still a little surprised he would want to give you the Mark. If word got out a Muggle-born witch took the Mark, more Muggle-borns will come to him. His power is great enough I think a number of them would risk it, if they knew they had a chance to be accepted," Severus said. "Of course, the Muggle-borns wouldn't like the revels Macnair and friends are so fond of, and without their rewards, _they_ won't be happy for long. Perhaps the Dark Lord doesn't consider Macnair, Goyle and the lot to be a great loss, with more –and more competent- wizards joining up."

Hermione frowned in thought. So she could set something in motion that might, in a small way, lessen the cruelties the Muggles were subjected to. Or her decision could lead to a lot of trouble, if Macnair and friends were to act up. 

"What do you think?" she asked finally.

"I think you should take it," Severus replied. "It is risky, yes. But it looks like the Dark Lord will win in the end, and as such, it may help a lot of Muggle-borns and half-bloods."

Hermione nodded. "I will inform him."

The next day, she requested to see the Dark Lord. Soon after, Pettigrew told her to come to Voldemort's work room, the same room where she had been brought in both times he captured her. She knocked and the door opened immediately. Entering, she knelt in front of Voldemort.

"Miss Granger, have you thought about what I told you?"

"I have, my Lord. I will take the Mark," she replied. 

"Good. I had hoped you would. Give me your arm."

She held out her left arm, and for the second time in two days, Voldemort touched her with his long, thin fingers. 

The Dark Lord pushed her sleeve up, then took out his wand. He rested the tip lightly on her skin. 

"Morsmordre Tergus."

The brand blazed into her skin, and Hermione bit her lip so hard she could taste blood, and tears shot in her eyes, but she did not cry out. After a few moments, the searing pain faded and settled into a heavy throb. She blinked quickly to rid herself of the liquid in her eyes.

The Dark Lord smiled, satisfied. "Welcome to the fold, Miss Granger."

She inclined her head respectfully. "Thank you, Lord."

She returned to their quarters as he dismissed her, looking perfectly calm as she walked down the halls. But once inside, she shivered over her entire body. She was immensely relieved to find Severus had been waiting for her. She fell into his arms and, here in the privacy of their quarters, allowed herself to cry. 

There would be no going back, she could only hope she had done the right thing.

It wasn't long before the first Muggle-born came to Voldemort. Only about a week after she had taken the Mark, Kathleen Morgan, a just-graduated Hufflepuff, was brought to the manor by Laticia Shiring, a Slytherin who had been in the same year. Three days later, her friend Sheila Donner, a Ravenclaw, followed. Then, an older wizard, Jorgen Howard, approached the Dark Lord. Hermione knew there would be more. The first two had been students straight out of school, impressionable and afraid. Howard was eighty-six, worked for the Ministry of Magic, and had been a Gryffindor. 

They would go downstairs for some of their meals, now. She watched the Death Eaters nervously, trying to determine their reactions. The other Death Eaters, now, although she still couldn't really think of herself as one of them, nor was she allowed any more freedom than before.

Malfoy was the greatest surprise. Hermione knew how he and Draco had looked down on her and any other Muggle-born witches during school, and she had expected an unpleasant response, even though he had been reasonably civil. Instead, he seemed pleased she had acceded to the Dark Lord by taking the Mark. Clearly, Malfoy's loyalty to Voldemort was greater than his prejudice. 

The other Death Eaters were almost as uneasy around her as she was around them, unhappy with her and the new recruits, yet afraid to show it. Hermione couldn't help but smile when she noticed they avoided her, now. Of course, Mark or no Mark, she wouldn't yet dare protest against anything they would do, to her or any of the others. Her status hadn't changed that much.


	9. The final attack

**Caution: **contains character death. As I said in the first chapter, this is a dark story. Don't like it, don't read it!

**9. The final attack.   **

The Dark Lord never interrupted their research, and thus Severus was surprised when Malfoy entered, late one evening, and told them to report to the sick room that night. Of course, sometimes the Death Eaters who went on the raids did get cursed or otherwise injured, but it had never been part of their duties to look after those. The Dark Lord didn't even ask him to brew the regular healing potions, he had others to do that kind of routine work. That they were called in to assist had to mean something big was going to happen. And there was only one really big stronghold left that he could think of.

Hermione came to the same conclusion. While he opened the cabinets, checking the inventory, she said, "This is it, then."

"It doesn't have to be." 

"Oh, name one other place he could plan to attack and expect resistance this serious," Hermione snapped.

Severus sighed. He should've known better than to try and protect her. She was too smart to be fooled, and she was strong enough to handle whatever came. "There isn't one," he admitted. Even the Ministry wouldn't qualify, Voldemort held enough sway with the government he would not need to launch an open attack there.

"So he didn't wait for more people."

"No." That was a surprise to him, he had thought Voldemort intended to gain a good number of Muggle-born wizards, then strike at the school. But of course, that would be what Albus would expect, too. Just waiting long enough for the rumor to get out he was recruiting, then strike, made for a good surprise strategy. 

Hermione bit her lip as she checked the beds in the tiny room, then settled down to wait. Severus didn't have that kind of patience, he paced instead.

It wasn't long before the first casualty came in. Terence Higgs, one of his own students just a few years ago. The young man was covered in burns and Severus took a jar of orange anti-burn salve, while Hermione got out a pain-relief potion. It wasn't a curse, these looked like flash-burns from a ward. Flaring up was usually the last thing a ward would do as it went down.

Soon there was no time to think, as several other injured stumbled into the room. All young men; Adrian Pucey, the Derrick boy, Kevin Entwhistle, and Vincent Crabbe. Severus wondered if Voldemort sent the young men ahead as human shields so the experienced Death Eaters would remain unharmed longer, or whether they themselves had been so eager to go up front. Probably some of both; he remembered his own, earlier, stint as a Death Eater and he had been in the front lines then. Although he had been careful, too, and never received a serious injury. Which was more than could be said of these boys.

Still without a wand, there was no instant healing of broken bones, but Skel-Restore worked as well, if a little slower. None remained after receiving first aid, there was no room here. Those who could, walked out, the others were floated to a guest room by one of those who were mobile.

Just as Hermione helped Entwhistle off the bed, Flint arrived with Macnair on a floating stretcher, all the bones in his legs gone. Even so, the man was grinning widely. 

"We got him, _I _got him," he announced. "Ah, Severus, hate to tell you but your good old friend the Headmaster is dead."

Years of practice allowed Severus to keep his expression blank, but inside, he felt a stab of pain. For many years, Albus had been the only one he considered a friend, and the man had done more for him than he could ever repay. And now he had to heal his friend's killer. For just a moment, he was tempted to poison Macnair. It would be so easy. And totally useless. Nothing they could do here would change the outcome for Hogwarts. 

Hermione handed him the bottle of Skele-Grow. She had gasped when Macnair announced Dumbledore was gone, but she was also getting good at hiding her feelings, and once again looked calm. 

They put Macnair on one of the few beds, and Severus couldn't help but feel some satisfaction when the man was clearly uncomfortable. Re-growing a part of the skeleton hurt, and pain relief potion couldn't be given in combination with Skele-Grow.

For a while, no one came in. Likely, when Dumbledore had fallen the entire school had been taken. Severus glanced at Hermione to make sure she was okay. She looked back with a glance at Macnair. She wasn't, but she would not show anything in front of the man. Suppressing a sigh, Severus started to go through the bottles of potion they had used, putting some back in the cupboards and rinsing the empty ones.

He was almost done when the others came in; those with minor injuries, not severe enough to leave the raid. Draco was one of the first, cradling a burned hand but elated. Severus didn't have to hear the words to know Hogwarts had fallen. Nott, Goyle, Avery and number of others followed, all cheering.

They weren't really needed for this, usually the Death Eaters would help themselves to the potions, but no one had told them to go back to their own quarters, and besides, Severus hoped to hear a little more. Who had been killed, and who had lived. He refused to ask, and the Death Eaters did not volunteer any details. Most made sure to grin at him, but neither he nor Hermione took their bait.

In the end, it wasn't one of the Death Eaters who told them. It was Poppy Pomfrey. All the Death Eaters but Macnair were gone from the infirmary when Malfoy came in, floating a stretcher with Randolph Lestrange on it, with Poppy immediately behind them. 

Severus was relieved to see she was alive –after Albus, she was probably the one he liked best, and she had healed him more times than he cared to count, before Voldemort was certain he was a spy. But he was distraught by her appearance. 

The older woman wore a torn night shirt, covered with a ripped and bloody cloak. Not her own blood, judging from the way she moved. Her hair was unkempt and her face tear-streaked. She stared in shock when she saw him and Hermione.

"Severus, you're alive," she gasped, "Hermione!"

"Your patient," Malfoy reminded her.

With a start, she turned back to the stretcher. Clearly, Lestrange had been seriously injured in the battle, too seriously to be transported here immediately. Severus wondered how the Dark Lord had convinced Poppy to take care of him, the usual method didn't work well when she had to be able to do her job right then and there. Well, he'd ask her later.

Even as distraught as she was, she was capable. She ran her wand over the still form of the Death Eater, using several spells Severus had never heard before. He wasn't a medi-wizard. He knew everything about healing potions, and quite a bit more than the basic spells that were also used, but nowhere near as much as Poppy. He soon decided Lestrange was lucky she had survived, he or Hermione would not have been able to save him, even if they'd had their wands.

Poppy worked automatically, requesting potions which Severus and Hermione handed to her, then using spells again. For a good half hour, that was all they did. Then, Poppy stepped back from the stretcher and carefully levitated Lestrange onto the nearest bed. 

"He will live, but he should not be left alone."

"Good," Malfoy said.

"The others?" Poppy asked.

"Take what you need," Malfoy said, pointing at the potions standing on the shelves, then reaching for her wand. "But I'll hold this when you don't need it."

Poppy nodded and selected some of the healing potions. She didn't clarify and Severus didn't ask, but he assumed this meant there were others who had survived. Some good news, at any rate. When Poppy had what she needed, Malfoy took her out of the room. 

They returned about an hour later, and this time Malfoy showed her into the room, waited for her to check on Lestrange, then left her.

As Malfoy closed the door, Poppy stood next to Lestrange's bed, wide-eyed and shaking. 

"Severus, Hermione, I still can't believe you're here… Oh, Merlin, he killed them. Albus, Harry, Minerva." She held her head in her hands and started to sob.

To Severus' relief, Hermione put her arm around Poppy and led her to a chair. He could handle Hermione but he didn't think he would know how to console anyone else. So Potter was dead, too. Then there really was no one left to stand in the Dark Lord's way. And Minerva. Sure, they had argued all the time, but he respected her. He would miss their quarrels. He sighed, then set his face in his customary scowl. Lestrange was out cold but Macnair was very much awake and he would not show distress in front of the man.

Hermione handed Poppy a calming draught. She glanced at Macnair and her eyes were only a little moist. Later, Severus knew, she would cry, when they returned to their quarters. He wished they could go there now, and take Poppy along, but they couldn't, not as long as Lestrange needed watching.

"Sh, cry if you need to," Hermione told Poppy, pulling up a chair next to her and holding the older woman. Severus noticed she didn't say it would be al right, or any such nonsense. It wouldn't be al right, but there wasn't anything they could do.

"I can't believe _I'm_ here," Poppy heaved after a while. "I had to help him." 

She gestured at Lestrange, then took a deep breath. "They came as most of us had gone to bed. I don't know who woke up first, the wards went off but I could already hear the shouts and the fighting as I ran out of my rooms. Albus hadn't expected an attack so soon, we heard You-Know-Who had started to recruit Muggle-born wizards." 

Suddenly she stopped and looked in horror at Hermione. Hermione nodded. 

"We'll tell you later."

For a moment, it looked like Poppy would pull away from Hermione, then she gave a helpless shrug and continued. "He'd expected the attack would not happen until You-Know-Who had greater numbers. Of course, we had the usual defenses up, with Sirius and Mundungus watching the wards, but they still took us by surprise. They knew how to get through the wards, somehow. I don't know if we could've stopped them even if we had known they were coming."

Severus heard a chuckle from Macnair. Fortunately, Poppy did not notice. How _had_ the Dark Lord known how to dispel the wards? Severus suspected some of the seventh-year Slytherins, but he had been gone too long to be sure. Of course, this was one thing Poppy would not have an answer to either, so he didn't ask.

"It all went so fast. By the time I made it to the Entrance Hall, some of the Death Eaters were already inside. Sirius, Hagrid and Mundungus lay near the front doors, and Argus was down as well. Sirius was moving but seriously injured and without his wand. Filius, Albus, Minerva and Harry were on the main staircase. We managed to take a few attackers out, some went down and others fell back. The rest of the staff joined us, but we could not drive them back out the doors. Then, then…"

Poppy choked and closed her eyes before continuing. "One of them got Albus. I don't know how he got through the shield we had put up. But he did, the shield went down and he shot the killing curse at Albus. Albus countered with a deboning spell, but it was too late." 

Severus glanced at Macnair, who, unfortunately, was still wide awake and laughed aloud. He glowered at the man.

This time, Poppy did look up, eyes widening again in realisation. She buried her head in her hands as she broke down crying. Macnair looked smug.

It was a while before she found her voice again. "Seeing Albus fall… it was such a shock. Harry stepped up to the front and we tried to keep going but I think we knew we'd lost already. Filius lost his wand to an expelliarmus spell, and Minerva was hit by a Petrificus Totalus. Then they all concentrated on Harry, and the shield buckled completely. Remus tried to leap in front of him but there were too many of them. They hit Harry and Remus with Cruciatus, then some of the Death Eaters levitated them both forward and took their wands. The rest of us… we didn't last long."

Poppy swallowed hard. "They rounded us up in the middle of the Entrance Hall, all of us who were still alive, stunned or not. Never made it further into the castle, and they didn't have to, they had all of us. You-Know-Who went around, first to Harry. He…" She choked up again before she managed to continue.

"He didn't use magic. He... he cut his throat. He butchered him like a Muggle killing an animal."

Hermione sucked in her breath at this, and Severus, while not changing the expression on his face, snarled inwardly. It made sense, after all the times Voldemort's killing spells had backfired on Potter, but this was still, yes, beastly. 

Poppy shook her head and her voice was flat when she spoke again. "Then he went around, simply murdering those he chose. Minerva, Filius, Remus and Tonks. He didn't even hesitate, just picked them out and cast the killing curse. Then he announced that any of the rest of us were welcome to join him, if we wanted to live." 

Severus sighed. Filius' ever-present cheerfulness had annoyed him, but it was hard to believe he was gone. And Remus and Tonks, too. He hadn't got along with any of them, especially not with Remus, but he hadn't wanted to see them dead. So many of his colleagues, gone. 

"I wish he had killed me then," Poppy managed. "I didn't want to give in, but Malfoy approached me. He'd been checking the dead and the wounded, and found him," she gestured towards Lestrange.

"He told me to heal him. I refused. Then he… he said that if I'd help the Death Eater he'd let me heal the injuries of the surviving staff, and I, I relented." She hung her head as if ashamed. 

"We all do as we must," Severus said.

"Please don't feel guilty," Hermione told her.

Poppy looked up, looking at her and Severus. This time she did pull away from Hermione, so quickly the chair fell over as she stood up. "How can you say that, either of you! Severus, Albus always trusted you."

Hermione bit her lip and Severus sighed again. Even after all this time, he was not free of feelings of doubt and guilt himself. They might not have their wands, but he had an entire potions lab. Was he a coward for working for the Dark Lord instead of taking any of the thousands of poisons he had access to, or even blowing up the lab and a good part of the manor? He had considered it, but he never did, and he knew he would not. But even though he recognised the feeling, he still resented hearing the accusation from someone else. With some difficulty, he kept himself from snapping at Poppy, she really didn't need that right now.

Fortunately, Hermione answered. She was better at keeping her anger in check, although she sounded a little strained too. "We didn't submit easily, especially Severus. No one could have held out as long as he did."

Macnair laughed. "Why don't you tell her all about that?"

Hermione flinched and Severus glared at the man. "About how you almost killed me?" he replied coldly. "You never told me what our Lord did to you for messing up like that."

That at least shut him up. 

Poppy started to cry again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

Hermione got up and put her arm around her again. "I know. It's al right."

Severus looked at the Medi-witch. She was still in the same torn night clothes and cloak she had worn when she arrived, and looked terrible. It was also hours past midnight. 

"Hermione, why don't you take Poppy to our quarters so she can clean up a little. And try to get some sleep, both of you. I will stay with Lestrange and I will call if anything happens." He wished he could give Poppy some Dreamless Sleep potion, but if something happened with Lestrange, he would have to be able to wake her.

Hermione nodded, then led Poppy out, leaving him alone with Macnair and the sleeping Lestrange.


	10. The Dark Lord's world

**10. The Dark Lord's world.**

Even though their research was high priority, and Voldemort wanted him to get back to work as soon as possible, there were many disruptions for the next few days. Rudolphus Lestrange recovered quickly, and he woke the second day after the attack on Hogwarts. His wife, Bellatrix, was instated as Headmistress of Hogwarts. It came as a surprise to many that Voldemort didn't take Hogwarts as his headquarters, but the Dark Lord announced his intentions to keep the school open, instructing young students with some small, but important changes in the curriculum when it came to the Dark Arts. 

The Dark Lord called Severus to ask his opinion about the trustworthiness of those staff members who had, with more or less reluctance, surrendered. Severus was hesitant to offer his advice, he was hardly close to any of them, no matter how long he had been at Hogwarts. In the end, Christy Sinistra, Reena Lennarts, Irma Pince, Madam Hooch, Vector and even Filch, returned to the school. 

Christy was the only Slytherin. She had been loyal to Albus but she would not go against her promises now that Hogwarts had fallen. Severus did not know Reena Lennarts, who had taken over Potions only after he himself was captured, but the Dark Lord seemed satisfied when she offered her services. Severus wasn't as sure about either Irma or Madam Hooch, both had been at Hogwarts for many years. But they weren't fighters, they wouldn't be likely to cause trouble. Vector had rarely got herself involved in anything, it was unlikely she would start now. And Filch, Severus wasn't sure why the Dark Lord would even allow a squib to remain in the school, but he certainly wasn't a threat. Sybill Trelawney submitted to the Dark Lord as well, but there would be no more Divination on the new curriculum. Voldemort shared Severus' opinion the subject was quite useless, the few people who had the gift could get their training elsewhere.

Then Voldemort had asked him to talk to Pomona Sprout. The Dark Lord valued her abilities and while he had not trusted Minerva or Filius, no matter how highly qualified they might have been, he believed he could convince Pomona to work for him. Severus agreed; while she was more feisty than Irma, Madam Hooch, or even Poppy, she was not really a fighter either. With all the leaders from the Order of the Phoenix gone, he hoped he could make her see reason. 

The Death Eaters held a number of wild parties in the main ballroom, celebrating their victory, but as usual Severus avoided those. The Dark Lord did require his and Hermione's presence at the services for the Death Eaters who had been killed. Hugh Bole, Carlos Warrington and Kaylin Quint had been killed in the attack, and while usually the funerals of fallen Death Eaters were a sober affair –those who failed were not highly praised, and of course for the longest time the Death Eaters could not openly acknowledge their relationship with those who had been killed- the Dark Lord let everyone know that those who had fallen in this attack would be looked upon with great honour.

Severus had never allowed himself to get close to any of the Hogwarts staff, except for Albus, rarely allowing himself any emotional involvement with anyone at all, but the fall of Hogwarts still hit him hard. It was worse for Hermione, who had known the staff members for far less time but had considered many of them her friends. Not to mention Potter, who had been her close friend all through school. Even now, she was strong enough to show little during the day, but at night, in the privacy of their quarters, she broke down several times. 

So it came as a great surprise when, almost a week after the attack, she came into the lab from a trip to the library grinning widely, then bursting out in laughter as soon as the door closed behind her. 

It had been a long time since he'd heard her laugh. Sure, there'd been smiles and short laughs about a hundred little things, in the evenings when they could almost forget where they were, and how they'd gotten there. But real laughter, he hadn't heard that from her, here.

"Hermione?" he asked.

"They aren't really gone, Severus," she said, beaming. "They aren't really gone. Albus, Minerva and Harry, they've come back to Hogwarts as ghosts!"

For a moment, Severus wasn't sure he had heard her right. "All three of them?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded happily. "I don't know how they did it, but they did."

Then Severus, too, found himself smiling broadly. Of course, on a larger scale, it would change nothing. Ghosts couldn't interfere with the world of the living directly, that was a law of nature even Albus couldn't, and wouldn't, go around. The dead would always greatly outnumber the living and some, from the grey past when the entire world was a harder one, would make the Dark Lord seem like a saint in comparison. But Hogwarts would be a better place for their presence, and also Severus realised he was glad for pure selfish reasons. Albus was the only one in twenty years he'd called a friend.

"Bellatrix Lestrange is livid, but she can't do nothing about it," Hermione continued. "Poppy told me –she will be returning to Hogwarts now that Rudolphus Lestrange could be moved, but his wife came to see him yesterday."

Severus grinned at the mental image. The good news made things easier for both of them. 

It also helped convince Pomona to return to the school. The small woman had been more stubborn than Severus had hoped, and had refused to return when he had suggested it, but when she heard about Albus, Minerva and Harry, she relented. 

Before the Wizarding world could really recover from the news Hogwarts had fallen, Voldemort made his final strike at the Ministry. The Dark Lord had a lot of influence there already, and the coup went off without a hitch. Fudge, who for whatever reason had managed to save his ass even when he had to admit he'd been wrong denying the Dark Lord's resurrection, was killed, but he was the only casualty. No great loss, if you asked Severus. 

Voldemort himself remained behind the scenes, and Lucius Malfoy became the new Minister of Magic. With all the reins firmly in hand, a relative peace returned to the Wizarding world as those who had resisted were now only scattered individuals, lacking organisation. The Death Eaters rounded those up quickly, and a great number chose to switch sides. Others left the country, but few if any remained behind to fight.

Life settled into routine again. Severus was glad to see many of the newly joined Death Eaters were both more capable and more pleasant than most of the old crowd had been. Muggle-borns who pledged to Voldemort were all accepted, and some of the old Death Eaters who couldn't deal with that were delegated to other positions. The Goyles, Flint and the Notts were now on the continent, attempting to locate a number of Aurors and others who had relocated before and after the attack on Hogwarts. It appeared the Weasleys had gathered a small group of refuges and retreated to Romania, but no other news reached them.

The Crabbes were, against Severus' expectations, able to accept the changes. Macnair was the only one left at the Manor who made no secret of his hatred of the new recruits, even those who were Purebloods but hadn't come to the Dark Lord until they had no other options left. But Macnair had been the one to kill Albus and thus his position was safe no matter what.

Voldemort finally returned their wands, late the next winter. He'd come to watch them work again, when Severus had lifted a cauldron a little higher off the flame to temper the heat. Something he did automatically, after all this time. But the Dark Lord had frowned, and later, Pettigrew had come and handed them their wands. It was almost strange to do magic again, and sometimes Severus still got up to collect a book or ingredient from across the room, forgetting he could summon it.

From that day on, he also instructed Hermione in the Dark Arts, the spells and charms that had not been taught at Hogwarts but she would need now. The Dark Lord still didn't require them to actively participate in any of his campaigns, but it would never do to be caught unawares. 

Hermione was as good a student in the Dark Arts as she was in anything else she undertook. She would often frown in distaste at the curses he taught her, but he was certain she retained them all. 

Severus was used to having few friends, and truth to tell, he felt better than he had been in many years. He still regretted the Wizarding world had fallen to the Dark Lord, for even thought it was better than it could've been, it was a hard world, and it had cost the life of several people he greatly respected. But on a personal level, he was happy, happier than he could ever remember being. If it was a selfish happiness, then so be it. 

Hermione was having a more difficult time. She missed her friends. She loved Severus, but only in stories was the love of one person enough to be truly happy. And she still felt guilty. Even if they hadn't taken an active part in any of Voldemort's raids, even if Voldemort had launched a large enough force at Hogwarts he would've taken the castle regardless of the rumors about her Mark, even if she knew many of those who had come to the Dark Lord would have been killed if they had not. Somewhere deep inside she could not accept the new and harder world, and her feelings of guilt and regret caused her to withdraw in herself. Even though they had a little more freedom and frequently met with the Death Eaters, old and new, she kept her distance to everyone outside their own quarters.

Spring came, followed by summer. Almost all of the recently graduated students joined the Dark Lord. Of course that was from among those who had returned to the school, and didn't include those who'd left the country or decided not to return to the school under the Lestranges, but the news still bothered Hermione. Had it been her fault the attack on Hogwarts had succeeded so easily? She knew the number of Death Eaters Voldemort had long before she took the Mark, and she didn't voice her feelings of doubt because she didn't want to be silly, but she couldn't shake them.

One afternoon in early August found her sitting in the window sill. The window wide open, allowing the sun and a soft summer breeze to enter the room. It had been a good day. Their project was going well, and she thought the bezoar that lay simmering in a mixture of unicorn blood, dragon's scales, mandrake root and more than a dozen other ingredients looked very promising. In spite of her discomfort with the project, she was proud of their results. 

Severus had told her just that morning he was proud of her, too. Although he still taught her some things –even she couldn't catch up on everything he knew in just two years- she had worked hard to learn as much as she could, and he treated her as an equal now. She knew he wouldn't do that if she hadn't been good enough; he had cared for her just as much when they'd just got here, but straight out of Hogwarts she had only been able to assist him while she learned. While he'd listened to her suggestions from the start, back then it had been clear she was his assistant as long as they were in the lab.

She had been reading, but the sun was warm and, rare for her, she found she could not concentrate on the book. The manor grounds were beautiful, the grass green even in the middle of summer, the small lake under the ancient trees blinking in the sun. If it weren't for the Dementors, who still patrolled the grounds even now there was little resistance against Voldemort, it would be inviting to go outside for a stroll. Instead, she'd have to be satisfied with her seat on the window sill, and it was quite nice, too. She'd always enjoyed summer, when the sun could cheer her up in ways the winter never could. 

Severus entered, his heavy robes discarded in the warm weather, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. He walked over and gave her a light kiss. 

"Afternoon, love," he said as he sat down across from her. 

She smiled at him as she cherished his touch and his company. But she also remembered all the things she'd been thinking about, and it was a weak smile.

He reached out, lightly touching her cheek. "You're still feeling sad."

She looked at him. They were sitting in the warm summer sun, it was a beautiful day and he looked at her with concern and love in his dark eyes. She smiled. She did not _want_ to feel sad. Yet the doubts kept nagging.

"Severus, is it wrong to be happy? After all that's happened," she asked softly. Without realising it, she put her right hand on her left arm, on the Mark.

He pushed the hair that had fallen forward out of her face, his touch soft and gentle. "No. You deserve happiness, as much as anyone. More than most. You have nothing to feel guilty of."

"The school, Dumbledore, Harry, all those who came after me...," she said, trailing off.

"It is highly doubtful any of that would've turned out much different in the end. Quite possibly, worse. There is far less hostility against Muggles and Muggle-borns." His dark eyes bore into hers and he spoke with authority, as he had done in the classroom. Then his expression softened, and so did his tone. "If it is wrong to be happy, then at least know you are not the only one. I'm happy here, with you, no matter what."

"Thank you, Severus," she said softly. She leaned forward to kiss him, wrapping her arms around her, and he pulled her into his embrace.

Later that evening, they sat close together on the couch, the sun long gone down and the breeze now slightly cool through the open window. Savouring the quiet evening, Hermione was glad she had finally expressed her feelings of guilt. She didn't hold the illusion that all her doubts would be gone forever, but she knew she could at least start to let go.

Finally, at the end of September, the Stone was ready. The bezoar, which used to be a dark brownish color, had turned blood-red, and the mixture it had been laying in for almost three months was completely clear. 

Hermione held the small box lined with white cloth while Severus fished it out of the cauldron. Neither spoke as Severus carefully placed the Stone in the box, then turned and placed the small cauldron of healing potion on the lab table, while Hermione dried the Stone and made sure there was not a trace of the liquid left.

Satisfied, Hermione returned the Stone to Severus. It looked fine, but they would know if it worked only by testing it. Severus took the Stone from her, carefully held it in a set of tongs, then dipped it into the healing potion. Hermione held her breath.

As soon as the Stone touched the potion, the light yellowish liquid turned a shimmering red. 

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed. 

Severus was smiling broadly. He carefully lifted the Stone out of the Elixir, replacing it in its box. 

"It worked." Satisfaction was clear in his voice. 

Hermione once again dried the Stone, it was important to not let the potion dry on the Stone where it could leave a residue, then handed it to Severus. She picked up a small cauldron with fresh healing potion, the tongs and the cloth, and followed Severus out of the lab.

The door to the Dark Lord's rooms opened as they approached. Of course the Dark Lord knew their project was almost finished, and how good it had looked this time. 

Little had changed in the room over the time she had been at the manor. Voldemort usually sat in his large chair, although occasionally he would be working at the ornate desk on the right wall. Nagini was curled up near the fireplace. The snake was long used to them and rarely even lifted her head when they came in. Pettigrew was there, of course, though Hermione didn't know what he was doing all day. He ran errands but he seemed to do little but hang around in between.

Hermione followed Severus as he walked up to the Dark Lord and knelt down.

"Rise," Voldemort commanded. They stood.

"Lord, we were successful," Severus said, handing the Stone over with a bow. 

Voldemort's red eyes gleamed as he held the Stone and slowly turned it over in his long, pale hands. "Excellent. The potion?"

Hermione handed him the tongs and held the cauldron with the healing potion up. The Dark Lord repeated the process with which they had tested the Stone earlier, turning the potion into the red Elixir. Handing the Stone to Severus to clean it, the Dark Lord then dipped a ladle into the cauldron and took a dose.

The result was immediate and astonishing. As they watched silently, Hermione held her breath. The Dark Lord's snake-like face got more color and the hollow cheeks filled out. Slowly, a regular, straight nose grew in place of the slits, and his red eyes turned an intense green. His entire body fleshed out, and the unnaturally long fingers shrunk just a little to more normal proportions. 

Pettigrew gasped and the sound startled Hermione. All the changes had taken place in complete silence. She herself gasped for breath, suddenly unsure how long she'd held it. She caught Severus' concerned glance but he, too, had most of his eye on their Lord. She reassured him with a minute nod. 

Shaken out of her breathless stare, she looked in awe at the young man she knew was Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord now appeared somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties, as strong as ever, or more so. He smiled as Severus handed him the Stone, cleaned and dried, again.  Severus, of course, looked composed but Hermione was certain he was awed by the results of the Elixer as well.

"Ah, excellent. It may have been difficult to convince you to work for me again, but it was definitely worth it," the Dark Lord said. 

"Thank you, Lord," Severus said carefully.

"No, thank you," the Dark Lord replied. "I would like you –both of you- to join my staff. You will have a say in the staff meetings, those who still have a problem with how you came here will answer to me. No raids, there are plenty on hand who like those. I will have some other potions work, but no more projects of this magnitude, there will be plenty of time for your own research or anything else you'd like to do."

"Thank you, Lord," Severus answered, and Hermione echoed him. 

Voldemort dismissed them, and Hermione felt strange as they went back to their quarters and lab. After working on the project for so long, it felt weird that it was finished. 

Back in their lab, Severus turned toward her. 

"There is one more thing," he told her seriously. "Your work on the Stone was your Master's project, and since we just successfully finished the project. You are now Hermione Granger, Potions Mistress. I am proud of you, Hermione."

Hermione could see the pride in his dark eyes, and she smiled broadly. 

"Thank you!" she said sincerely, then reached out to hug and kiss him. That it was hardly the traditional reaction to receiving a Master's degree was none of her concern, and neither did Severus care, for he kissed her back as passionately as she. 

That evening, they called the house-elves to set a table and they had a private dinner to celebrate. As always in the manor, the food was wonderful and the house-elves had outdone themselves. Hermione savoured dinner and the company. For much of the time she'd spent here, she'd been afraid they would succeed, afraid of helping Voldemort become younger and stronger. Now she no longer worried. The Dark Lord had conquered with very little help from either of them, and she had accepted the inevitable. And regardless of what happened in the world at large, she had Severus.

He looked happy as well, satisfaction and pride at their success obvious in his demeanour of the day. It was ironic he'd always been so unhappy and abrasive, and had found happiness in such a place as this. Hermione promised herself to make sure he would have reasons to remain happy.

They finished dinner with coffee and a small glass of liquor. Neither one of them drank a lot of alcohol, but they would occasionally imbibe. 

She watched Severus sip his drink They hadn't spoken since dessert, simply drinking their coffee and liquor in a comfortable, easy silence. Neither one of them was much of a talker. Finally, Severus put his glass down. He looked at her and she could see him take a breath before he spoke.

"Hermione," he started. "Now that we are truly equals, in work as well as in private… would you marry me?"

She felt her heart catch as she looked into his eyes. "Severus, I would like nothing more. Yes, absolutely yes."

Once again, they embraced in a passionate kiss, the last bit of liquor forgotten on the table. They'd never needed alcohol to enhance their lovemaking experience, and they didn't now. They had each other and that was all they needed.


End file.
